Not To Have or To Hold
by Wedjatqi
Summary: ALLIANCE FIC – As Teyla's wedding day fast approaches, she must tell John and end their affair. But the consequences will be far reaching, significantly affecting the relationship between Atlantis and the Alliance. As this threatens to tear JT apart, the most significant battle against the Wraith is about to begin, while in Atlantis an event shatters the only rest day had in years
1. Prologue

**Title:** Not To Have or To Hold  
**Chapter: **1 – Prologue  
**Part**: 1/?  
**Rating**: M  
**Warnings:** AU world, violence, angst galore, some scenes of a sexual nature, threat to character lives and so forth.  
**Disclaimers**: I earn no money from this, I write only for pleasure. I own no part of the Stargate world, only the characters that I create for myself.  
**Spoilers**: Set in established AU world, set in equivalent time as late season 3 – around the time of the episode "Sunday".

**Note:** Many apologies for the massive delay between the last fic and this one. Real Life has been dramatic, full of change and times of difficulty, through which this fic has slowly been created over the last 8 months. But it is finally here, completely written and so editing and posting is all that is required, but this is a large fic. I only hope there are still readers out there, and that Atlantis fic is still being created and read. I have been very lapse in reading others' fic myself (for the various Real Life reasons) but promise I will catch up as and when I can. Long may SGA live in the hearts of its fans.

**Note2:** I will do my best to get chapters out as quickly as possible. What I can promise is that this fic will contain angst, arguing, tears, Genii plotting, a wedding, a massive space battle, angst, space stations, killer robots, an unsuccessful fishing trip, angst, C4, John swearing, and did I mention there may be some angst? You have been warned.  
To get the story started, here are three chapters for this evening...

000000

**Chapter 1 – Prologue  
**

_The Second World Named Pelydr_

The rag was a heavy wet presence over her face, a recognised object but unseen. Its wetness released drips of chilled moisture down her face, the sensation strong, but yet distant, surreal.

"She is lost deep in the fever," a voice drifted in from beyond the wet rag, known yet also distant and ill defined...

The images and feelings were too much and drew her swiftly back into the raging overlapping torrent of moments. The memories of times to come were too overwhelming, demanding all of her consciousness.

And her consciousness was already stretched it to its fullest, to the point of breaking apart entirely.

As one watched moment overwhelmed and demanded her focus and attention, another formed to overlap it, the simultaneous moments existing together. She felt all in both and they warred with one another, conflicted and consumed her. No peace, no focus came, for another moment arrived, demanding, spewing its reality upon her.

A fire was burning before her, the echoes of other memories informing more of what she saw. It was a fire, but not of wood or cloth, but an atmosphere devouring itself. High above it, dark ships hovered, watching, causing. Lifeless human bodies floated in the vacuum around their dull hulls, the corpses bouncing off spinning broken pieces of destroyed ships, burning, all burning.

"She will not drink..."

Air blew across her face and before her light was sparkling over a strange coloured ocean, as a child ran across bright grass. She watched a building rise, built by many hands from the ashes of a lost world. A man crying, tears running down his sculpted tattooed cheek. A bird bursting through brush on a planet from another galaxy, a Wraith's hand twitching as it fell, opposing eyes staring at one another, trees exploding into eternal darkness, shouts and cries...

"Her heart, it cannot take this. We must do something..."

A babe's first cries, a man's last breath, a woman's final tears, and a warrior's passionate battle. Pain, loss, hope, and death.

Only, a sudden movement of light broke through the sensory barrage. It was enough to distract her expanded consciousness for a moment, drawing her back to her own physical, temporal body.

A sound registered close by, clothing moving closer, yet it could not hold her. Too quickly she was falling back into the dragging pull of the images, the feelings of times too immeasurable.

Sunlight streaking across a battlefield, the discarded bodies baking in the heat. A friend's final warm tight embrace. A man's tortured face, his long hair matted with blood as long fangs buried into the vulnerable turn of his throat.

"Sitayi!" A voice cut through all her distress in a single clear moment; the voice new and so emotionally imbued for her that its sound broke through barriers to reach her.

A soft touch brushed against her skin, the voice as soothing as the wet chill of the rag as it was pulled away.

"Hear me, Sister," the voice repeated.

Her sister.

Which reminded Sitayi of the Athosian sisters, and the moments flooded forward once more. The Athosian sisters leading victory, leading defeat, the skies burning. The tall spires of the Ancient City of the Ancestors, its walls burning, tears flowing, stars breaking apart.

"I will call the Elder Healer," another voice was heard, its anxiety pulling at Sitayi' awareness. Someone was ill. She needed to help. She could not stay hidden away.

A hidden unseen Wraith, not what it appeared to be, even to its own.

Elkaska shouting, reaching towards her with sweaty, blood-stained hands. "_When will it end, Sitayi?_" He shouted. Reaching up towards him, she tried to grasp his hand, but her body was falling away from him under the strongest of pulls, gravity unstoppable, just like the twisting turning leaves falling.

Leaves falling down upon a grave, an Athosian grave. Athosians weeping...the first of the great fallen.

They would fall like leaves afterwards...after his death.

"His death," she gasped, understanding with sudden, almost divine clarity that it would be his death that would decide it all.

"Who's, Sitayi'?" Sister's voice called. Sitayi' own blood sister, here at her side.

"We need a healer, now," the other voice argued.

"She is not sick," Sister objected. "It is a viewing of turning futures; she is lost in the convergence. It will pass."

"A Convergence is only myth," the other voice objected.

"No," Sister replied softly as the wet cool rag pressed once more over Sitayi' skin. "It is very real. A major convergence of possible futures is occurring. Which future will manifest remains undecided and so it is too much upon her, there are too many potentials. She is living in too many possible futures at once. It is only once the way forward forms that she will stabilise. Until then, she sees it all, lives it all. All that could be..."

And it all burned. Ancient twisted ships, killing, destroying.

The falling Elite leaves, falling to the burning Athosian ground, burning away to nothing. A reborn man, his green eyes lost, a family destroyed, and the Alliance devoured, taking a distant people's future with it into death.

All beginning at that first death.

The first leaf to fall.

The first of the Great Elite to die.

If only he would not fall.

0000000  
TBC


	2. Growing Concern

**Chapter 2 – Growing Concern**

There had been a fresh rain this evening, cooling off the late summer warmth and foretelling of the fast approaching days of early autumnal weather.

The dark granite steps glistened faintly in the lowering light, the late sunlight cutting a sharp pure angle across the open Battalion Square to fall upon the wide shallow steps that exited the Confederation's Government.

All others had long since retired to their homes, some still sleeping underground in the age old cities of the Genii.

However, Ladon Radim was among the many that now lived on the surface of the Genii homeworld, walking out in the open and sleeping with only a constructed roof above his head. It was expected by Cowen that his Government officials live above ground to show their people that this was the future. The Wraith were far from the Confederation's boundaries and the Genii were not to live in fear anymore.

As Ladon stepped down the last step onto Battalion Square, he looked off to the left, across the low landscape of the First City. It was literally, as the name so accurately described, the first city to have been built above ground in many generations. Deep beneath First City, the more ancient Genii capital city was still populated, but all those in power watching over the Confederation now lived above ground. The buildings of Government were central in the city, and Cowen's palace, the Genii Leader's residence, stood among them.

To all who looked on, this appeared to represent all that Cowen believed and dictated. His home, one of the largest and most central of the dwellings, stood high on the hillside of the First City where any attacking Wraith could see it. He lived front and central, showing his confidence and leadership through example to his people.

However, Ladon knew that though Cowen's palace stood in plain sight, Cowen himself lived in the deepest of subbasement levels beneath it.

It was typical of the underhanded behaviour of the Confederation's Leader.

Not for that much longer though.

Ladon returned his attention to his walk home, striding across the perfectly smooth marble slabs of Battalion Square. Everyday Genii battalions marched drills back and forth across this space, the rotation between the battalions strict and precisely followed, regardless of weather or community day. It was all for show, making it clear to any visitors to the Genii homeworld that the Genii were the bastions of military discipline and determination.

This evening a battalion were stood in long silent lines at the far side of the square, their controller barking out strict orders of the drill they were to follow.

Ladon had marched his fair share of drills in his youth, though below ground at that time. All Genii youngsters were required to join the military, but Ladon's focus had transformed into science with early adulthood. Fortunately, his people valued that passion and skill almost as much as military discipline and his skills had been fostered. He had been allowed time away from drills and commands in order to advance Genii technology as fast as was possible.

It had been on the back of that technological skill, coupled with his ability to work with non-Genii scientists within the then newly growing Alliance, that had allowed him to rise up to such high ranks as to sit in the Government.

Cowen, for all his lies and back-handed dealing, saw the value in Ladon's work.

The Genii people, however, were not as valued. Cowen's ever tightening hold on the populace was forging further dissatisfaction with even faster renewal. Just today another riot had broken out in the Second City, and Cowen had responded with his usual blind dictatorship style. A strict curfew had been imposed on all inhabitants of Second City and the gateways shut for inward trade for one standard rotation of the two moons. Several additional battalions had been sent to walk the streets of the city, and its city leaders had been called in to report directly to Government tomorrow.

It would no doubt cause greater trouble to come.

Now across the square, Ladon exited through the narrow intensely guarded passageway out of the Confederation complex out into the lower security areas of the officials' residential housing. Cowen wanted his officials living close and properly above ground, unlike himself.

Ladon reached his home within seconds and climbed the two steps up to the narrow front doorway. He lifted his hand to the palm sensor, of his own design, only to see a crack off darkness along the frame. The door was already open.

Assured that he had closed the door securely after the mid meal, he prepared himself for who might be inside.

Knowing who had sent them was obvious enough.

He pushed open the door gently, his hand resting on the butt of his sidearm. He rarely used the weapon, but was expected to wear it at all times.

The door swung open unhindered and Ladon stepped inside, triggering the internal lights as he did so.

Nothing stirred.

He closed the door securely behind him, pressing a thumb to the underside of the lock to send out the call, and then moved through the short hallway to the two open doorways, one of which led to his study, the other to his small kitchen. Despite the obvious space available in living above ground, the natural habit to live in darkened smaller spaces continued. Ladon wondered if Cowen's palace was the same inside.

The kitchen looked dark and empty, so Ladon entered his study instead.

He didn't bother to try to turn on the lights, knowing the routine of such visits. Whoever had been sent to talk with him would have disabled all technology in the room. He moved further into the darkened room, the one small window allowing in the advancing orange tinge of sunset, which fell over thick shadows and still furniture.

A boot touched against the hard floor and a face leant forward into the orange light.

"Radim," the man greeted. He was eating a kita fruit, no doubt taken from Ladon's kitchen.

"Pranos," Ladon greeted in return.

Kolya had sent one of his favoured men for this visit, which meant this was either going to be a less than agreeable conversation or it was a strategically vital one. Either option worried Ladon, but he was used to Kolya's ways. He had been one of his men after all. One of the chosen few to be in Kolya's elite team, most of whom had either been killed or captured during the ill fated infiltration of Atlantis over two years ago. Ladon had managed to escape with the remaining few survivors, and had tended to Kolya after he had been shot during the escape. Cowen's 'appreciation' for the failed mission, that he himself had secretly ordered, had not been pleasant. It had been a risky time for Ladon – to remain valuable and innocent to Cowen, despite having actually assisted Kolya in his subsequent escape. Pranos had fled with Kolya, loyal to a sharp fault, choosing excommunication over his people.

"Please sit," Pranos suggested waving a hand towards Ladon's own desk at the far side of the small room.

It was a typical Kolya-style manipulation, Pranos trying to play the part of his hero, acting in control of Ladon's own home.

It was a weak and pathetic display, but Ladon was good at hiding his emotions and thoughts. If he were not, he would have been long dead.

"It has been a long time since you walked on Genii soil, has it not, Pranos?" Ladon asked as he moved through the shaft of deep orange light. Sliding in behind his father's old desk and into his own worn comfortable chair, Ladon felt his confidence settle further into place.

"I visit when I wish," Pranos lied. Ladon had contacts everywhere, including the majority of the surveillance guards who watched all the video feeds from the Portal and therefore knew all who entered or left the Five Cities of the Genii homeworld. If Pranos had been here before, Ladon would have been informed. No doubt the report of Pranos' arrival was already being passed to Tyrus. Tyrus would likely be on his way here now as a result.

"And what do you think of the latest additions to our new grand cities?" Ladon asked offhandedly.

Pranos glanced away into the limited view through the sunset light and shrugged. "I have no concern about such things."

"No?" Ladon asked. A small faint light flashed slowly on the hidden edge of his desk. His backup had arrived, but would remain unseen for now. "It will be your home again soon."

Pranos settled back into his chair within the shadows. "That day has been delayed by the treaty. Kolya is displeased."

Ladon shifted his shoulders against the high back of his chair; they ached faintly from his day's work. "The Non-Aggression Treaty with Atlantis will not stand in our way."

"The plan was not to help Cowen," Pranos argued.

"The plan has always been to help _our_ _people_," Ladon pointed out. "The treaty gives Cowen confidence, and so he'll not be so watchful. Unlike Atlantis after the attempt on Major Sheppard's life."

Pranos glanced aside to the window again. "Do not concern yourself with Major Sheppard."

Ladon frowned, leaning forward. "Assassinating him will do nothing for the Genii. Rumours of Kolya's survival are now spreading-"

"And already additional support is forming," Pranos interrupted with a self satisfied smile.

"To plague the cities with riots and anger? This is not what we had planned."

"Cowen must fall," Pranos insisted.

"He will," Ladon insisted in turn. "As we agreed; off world where the damage will be minimal to the Genii and our reputation within the Alliance."

"The Genii are all that matter, the Alliance will follow in time."

Yes, Ladon had no doubt that once Kolya had set himself in power of the Genii that he would look next to controlling the Alliance.

"The treaty does not matter, Cowen condemns himself in the eyes of our people every single day," Ladon replied instead.

"So you say," Pranos responded. "Kolya remains disappointed, Radim. Perhaps he might even wonder if you are still loyal to the campaign."

Ladon sat back in his chair, the obvious and tiresome routine with Kolya's intermediaries was always a problem. They envied Ladon's position, thinking him the chosen of Kolya's inner circle. Ladon was perfectly placed for Kolya, manipulating Government gently as needed, a scientist not a military leader and so seen as less of a threat, even while he secretly relayed information back to Kolya. Once the day came to topple Cowen publically, it would be Ladon's face they would see, and he would then announce the true fate of Kolya, previously believed dead, but to be seen as having been exiled by the evil Cowen. The people would embrace Kolya's return as the powerful military leader he had previously been, and Ladon would graciously step aside for Kolya to take the lead position of the Genii in the times of strife that their people faced. However, it had never been in Ladon's plans to have seen that strife manufactured and perpetrated by Kolya himself. The sooner Cowen was removed the sooner that damage could end.

"I have always served Kolya loyally," Ladon replied, ensuring his expression insistent. "It is better that we put forward for the day now, remove Cowen and Kolya can return."

"There are still concerns to be dealt with," Pranos replied cryptically.

"What is more concerning than raising our people up to their highest? The Wraith battle on, despite the Fleet and Elite's work, now is not the time to weaken the Genii."

"The plan is in action, the time will come, Radim. Until then, you are to do better at limiting Cowen's reach. Tighten the laws further."

Ladon sighed lightly. "What is Kolya's new timescale?"

"That is not for you to know yet," Pranos replied, suggesting to Ladon that the man didn't know himself.

"And if there are more riots?" Ladon asked. "If our people storm Government?"

"Then the day of Kolya's return will arrive quicker," Pranos smiled. "And you will be all the happier. Will you not?" He added with suspicious smugness as he stood up, leaving the sticky remains of the kita fruit on the floor by his boot.

"And if I am killed in the riots?" Ladon asked out of curiosity and to ensure that such concern would get back to Kolya.

"Then you will be remembered, as will your family," Pranos with some weight as he moved away through the new darkness of night. "Your sister, for example, and your lover. Does Tyrus know that you bed his daughter, Sora?"

Ladon didn't reply to that as he watched Pranos smile again.

"Know your place, Radim, and follow Kolya's lead. After all, once Kolya rules the Genii, you will have all you could ever wish for."

And with that, Pranos walked out of the study with apparent confidence, despite being a wanted man on the watch lists. Of course Ladon had ensured that no one among the guards would actually report Pranos' presence, or the other men and women working for Kolya, but officially Pranos should still be concerned. One of Cowen's loyalists might recognise him.

Ladon waited for the sound of his own front door opening and closing behind Pranos, and for silence to fall.

He inhaled thoughtfully as he rested deeper into his chair.

A soft creek was the only announcement that Hulte had entered the study.

"How much did you hear?" Ladon asked.

"Most of it," Hulte replied as he tapped on a pad, scanning the study for any concealed devices that Pranos might have left behind. He would have already checked the rest of Ladon's small home.

Ladon nodded as he rested an elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his chin against his fingers. "Kolya has other plans in place," he summarised thoughtfully into the darkness.

"Obviously," Hulte agreed as he sat down in the chair Pranos had just vacated. "The attempt on Major Sheppard was a foolish move."

Ladon nodded.

"One that implies Kolya's focus is drifting."

Ladon nodded again.

"As it did with Iketani and the Quantum," Hulte summarised.

Ladon nodded. The spread of Quantum and other drugs among their own people was a concern, but especially so as they knew from a particular source that Kolya himself was behind the push. That had not been part of the original plan either.

"He could try again," Hulte stated.

Ladon looked at Hulte through the shadows. The ambassador was a direct and clever man, focused on the benefit of his people, as was Ladon. The problem was that Kolya appeared to have other motives now driving his plans.

He frowned at Hulte, seeking his meaning. "To assassinate Sheppard?"

Hulte nodded. "Most likely in Alliance territory now, to weaken the treaty. Perhaps even at the Athosian Political Wedding, as Leader Torren will no doubt invite Atlantis representatives."

"You believe Kolya is focused on revenge for his injury during the siege of Atlantis?"

"All of this is about revenge," Hulte responded.

"It was supposed to be about removing a weak leader and replacing him with-"

"You," Hulte interrupted.

Ladon glanced to the dark window. It was obvious enough to him that Hulte and the other supporters saw him as a weaker, more easily manipulated leader than Kolya would ever be. Kolya would be able to guide the Genii back to full strength and stability of character, but beyond that he would be a liability. A leader who wished to rule the entire Alliance was not what the Confederation needed. If the Alliance were to collapse, as Kolya himself almost appeared at times to be trying to force, then the Confederation needed to be as self-sufficient and strong as possible. Kolya could help bring about that strength with his reputation and Cowen's fall, but not much else. He would be as politically wise as a bullock.

"Pranos didn't say anything about the Political Marriage," Ladon considered.

"An alliance between the Genii and the Athosians is harmless enough, they will never compromise Government, and an alliance with the Elite, even fleeting, could be highly beneficial, even to Kolya," Hulte concluded.

"Does General Maloo have any allegiance to Kolya?" Ladon asked Hulte. Maloo was the most respected and powerful of Genii military officials who would be putting himself forward as a suitor for the Political Marriage. Maloo's long and highly successful military career made him more than acceptable to an Elite warrior to be considered for Political Marriage.

"None."

"Are you sure?" Ladon pushed.

"Perfectly," Hulte insisted calmly.

Hulte knew Maloo well. The two military men had fought together for many years, and Ladon did trust Hulte to a point.

"Maloo's interests are in warfare and the stability of our people, nothing more," Hulte added.

"Not also for fame for bedding an infamous Elite warrior?" Ladon pressed.

Hulte frowned. "The marriage will ensure Maloo a secure status, regardless as to who rules the Genii. That is the stability he wishes and will gain."

"How far along are the negotiations against the other suitors?" Ladon asked.

"Few now remain in the way. Maloo will be the final man standing at the Offering Ceremony on Athos," Hulte insisted.

"Such increased trade and agreement with other worlds will be seen as Cowen's work," Ladon considered.

"Kolya will want the marriage to go through," Hulte argued. "It benefits the Genii to be so closely associated with the Elite. He could not have predicted this chance for a contract with them. Whatever happens in the future, the marriage contract will mean that the Elite will side with the Genii, as will Athos and all her many trading partners."

Ladon nodded. It was the entire point of the exercise, as well as the many trades and ties formed by pushing aside all other offers to the Political Marriage from across the Alliance. The current strife in the Confederation could easily be repaired with Cowen's downfall and these new ties would strengthen the Genii beyond that time. Allied worlds would submit assistance, new ambassadors, and offerings of friendship to the new leader of the Genii Confederation, especially if the Genii had a political contract with the Elite.

"Then why do you suspect he will make an attempt on Sheppard again in such a political setting?"

Hulte blinked slowly. "Revenge, and to make a point for the future."

"He couldn't be that foolish to undermine our relationship with Athos and all her trading partners by the Genii being seen once again to be targeting Atlantis and Sheppard? If Sheppard is assassinated at the wedding, we would risk not only insulting the Elite themselves, but also lose all the marriage will bring us," Ladon rationalised.

"To be sure, we need to include Maloo in this," Hulte replied. "We can then assure Kolya that we are in control and that the marriage must go through unimpeded."

Ladon paused. Was Hulte only looking to secure his and Maloo's position and nothing more? Were they perhaps planning to take Ladon's position? Would Kolya appreciate them more for the high status military men that they were?

"Perhaps we should," Ladon considered out loud.

"I will arrange a meeting with Maloo," Hulte concluded with a nod.

"Good," Ladon replied as he heard his front door open once more. It was Tyrus and Sora, their boot falls distinctive across his thin carpeted hallway.

He frowned faintly as he recalled some of Pranos' words. How had Kolya found out about Sora?

It implied that Kolya retained ears and eyes in First City that Ladon did not know about, and that worried him.

It seemed that with each passing day there was only more to worry about.

0000000  
TBC


	3. Debrief in The City

**Chapter 3 – Debrief in The City  
  
**

Tiredness etched around Sam's consciousness as she watched the newly activated Stargate below her glass walled office. It was late morning now, but it felt more like the early hours still.

She was more than used to long shifts, in fact she had been known for them at the SGC. How many times had Jack tried to chase her out of the lab? How often had Tealc quietly arrived as a silent reminder to take care of herself? Not that Jack and Tealc were any better, or Daniel, but then Daniel would often be found asleep with his face in a book.

She missed them. She always missed them, but especially on the long weeks like this one. She missed their easy companionship, and the days of not being solely in charge of a military base in an Ancient city in another galaxy.

Yet, the blue light gently emitted by the gate below calmed her, soothed her with a familiarity that was comforting.

Jack, Daniel and Tealc were only a Stargate away – the universe was a smaller place for her now than it had used to be. Millions of light-years were no longer inconceivably beyond her lifetime.

They were just a Stargate away.

Daniel would have been so useful this past week. With the new Non-Aggression Treaty signed with the Alliance, she had begun the process of moving the vast increasing number of refugees off Atlantis. Several planets had been found willing to take in refugees, though only after close inspection of the treaty, with a copy given to them to be shown to any possible future 'invading' Alliance troops. Of those among the refugees who had not wanted to move to an already occupied world, the Beta Site planet had been offered, and several hundred had finally been relocated there this morning. The east pier was now empty and life in the city could return to normal. Though it had taken some work on her part.

Some of the refugee leaders hadn't wanted to leave Atlantis, and Sam could understand why. Here they had protection from everything, had clean safe water, readily available food, and the sense of their Ancestors around them. In the end it had taken some fear tactics to get the last of them to leave. Sam was not all that proud of herself for that, but it hadn't been a lie. Atlantis was a target for the Wraith; they had laid siege to the city twice now. Pointing that out, along with the fact that a city on the ocean did not provide many hiding places for people during a culling, unlike a planet with caves, tunnels and so forth, had made the final difference. Some had still left bitter, despite the fact that Atlantis had protected and provided for them up until now. Some people were never happy and could only see things from their own perspective.

From her perspective, the week had been far too long, and talking about Wraith in Atlantis had infested itself into her small number of hours of sleep last night. The nightmare had reminded her that, despite all the focus on the Alliance treaty of late, the Wraith could still discover that Atlantis was still around at any moment.

The Wraith were still very much a threat to those outside the Alliance borders. In fact the Alliance itself was locked in several major engagements with the Wraith, or at least that was what Woolsey had been told on his last visit to Athos. The problem was that if the Alliance failed, or the Wraith simply gave ground, then the Wraith could very well come poking around this area of the galaxy again anyway. The illusion of Atlantis having been destroyed by a high yield warhead would not hold forever if the Wraith began hanging around this part of the galaxy all the time. That Atlantis could be rediscovered haunted Sam as much as the many other array of nightmarish events she had witnessed over the years.

Last night she had woken from her nightmare alone and missing Jack more than ever. Unable to go back to sleep, she had gotten up and walked the hallways of the city, only to end up joining one small science team beginning the long slow cataloguing of the east pier as the last of the refugees were packing up to leave. With the evacuation, it was as a good time to check every room for damage and to actually do what the expedition had originally been intended to do – explore Atlantis and the technology within it.

Below her office, the wormhole's surface simmered and Major Lorne's team stepped through, swiftly followed by most of Major Sheppard's, and finally Carson in the rear. Sam could tell instantly that all had gone well at the Beta Site. The city really was theirs again.

Sam watched as her people crossed the Gate Room below – they would be heading up the steps for the debriefing she had scheduled on their return, so she needed to wrap up her current meeting.

Turning away from the glass, she returned her full attention to Rodney who was sat on one of the metal chairs in front of her desk, looking defensive and nervous, but trying to appear confident at the same time. Classic Rodney.

"...which is why it wasn't my fault," he was saying, and Sam realised she hadn't actually been listening to him for the last few seconds.

She walked back to her chair and sat down behind her desk, choosing to keep to that formal atmosphere with Rodney today.

"I'm not interested in the report being late, Rodney," she reminded him. "I want to talk about what happened two days ago, with the room-"

"Did Sumner complain about me?" He interrupted her anxiously. "I know what I'm doing, I don't need him babysitting me."

Sam sighed as she rubbed her fingers over the bridge of her nose. Her tiredness was making it harder than usual to keep her patience with Rodney.

"And Radek doesn't know what he's talking about, I wasn't trying to 'show off'," he continued. Sam glanced at him, curious at that point. "I already have a girlfriend, and Dr Esposito isn't that pretty..."

"McKay," Sam cut him short there. He snapped his eyes to her with that nervous puppy dog look that almost made Sam feel sorry for him. "This is about the fact that you activated that device without any idea what it was."

"I only worked on the console-"

"And if Colonel Sumner hadn't pulled you off that platform when he did you would have been hit by that energy beam," she continued over his objection.

"In my defence-"

"No, McKay," she interrupted him firmly. "You could have been killed. You know we have to be careful with Ancient technology."

"I know. I've been working with it longer than you."

Sam took a breath and refused to rise to that comment, and to point out that he been in the city less than a year more than her. But, that wasn't important right now.

"It wouldn't have killed me," he added quickly. It was typical Rodney behaviour – talk fast, loud, and with as many apparent facts as possible to beat his 'opponent' down verbally. It was his way of fighting – with words, theories, and just downright annoying persistence.

"Actually," she said while reaching for the spare tablet she and Radek had worked on earlier. "You're wrong there."

That made him shut up.

"What?" Well not for that long.

"Radek and I were finally able to translate the device's database yesterday," Sam told him as she triggered up the data on the tablet. "From what we can tell, it was designed to initiate DNA mutations." She looked back at Rodney. "If you'd been hit by that beam, your DNA would have slowly mutated to the point of no return, Rodney."

She handed him the tablet.

He rose up from his seat to take it from her. She watched him focusing down on the screen with that full driving intelligence of his. His complexion began to pale further than usual as he sat back down into his seat.

"You need to be more careful in the future, Rodney," she told him.

"I could have died," he uttered down at the tablet, that data the only proof he would accept.

"Yes, Rodney."

"The beam still passed very close to me," he worried, looking up at her. "I think it might even have grazed me slightly."

"You're fine, McKay," she interrupted the growing hypochondriac rant. "From what Radek tells me, it was the console that grazed you as Sumner pulled you off the platform."

"Very roughly, I might add."

Sam sighed loudly. "Do you hear yourself? He saved your life, so I suggest that you thank him-"

"The number of times I've saved him with-"

Sam glared at him and this time he had the good grace to shut up.

He was growing, slowly.

"I suggest that you thank him," she repeated. "And be more careful in the future. This city can't afford to lose you to some silly accident that could easily have been avoided."

A smug little smile crept across his face at the compliment.

"It wouldn't look good on my record," Sam added, unable to stop herself from shutting down the smug confidence.

He frowned, but she could tell that he understood her point and that it had been a compliment. He looked back down at the tablet as he put it on the desk. He looked tired. Everyone in Atlantis did.

Sam wondered if she should implement Heightmeyer's idea of a mandatory rest day. With all the refugees out of the city, and no apparent impending crisis, now would probably be the time. She and Heightmeyer could easily find one day in the rota.

She sat up closer to her desk edge and tapped in the memo to herself. "Just be more careful in future, Rodney," she reminded him again as she tapped in the possible rest day on her main tablet.

"I wonder if the mutations would have made me _even_ smarter?" Rodney pondered.

Sam looked up sharply. He was focused on the tablet again, tapping through her data.

"No, Rodney," she ordered sternly as she reached for the tablet. "You are not to go anywhere near that device. Do you understand me?"

He looked hurt as she took the tablet from him, rather like a kid who'd had his toys taken away from him.

"With some alterations-"

"McKay!"

"Fine, fine. It's too risky for me, as you said I'm far too valuable for you to lose."

He was loving this now.

"Perhaps we could test it on some mice instead, or maybe Sheppard."

She glared at him. "No!" She ordered him, her voice rising.

"Fine," he replied as he backed away, his palms up. "You don't want to ruin your record at successfully looking after me, I understand."

Sam sighed at his smug smile as he left.

How had he turned what should have been a dressing down into a stroke to his ego? The man didn't need mutated superpowers, he already had one: a super ego.

Having made the memo to discuss the mandatory rest day with Sumner and Heightmeyer, she pulled up her next meeting agenda.

She might even take the mandatory rest day as it was intended herself and actually get some good rest. Maybe just sit and read, somewhere quiet...

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John headed straight for the coffee set out in the Conference Room. A morning spent carrying bags, tents, and overseeing new defences for the refugees new occupation of the former Beta Site had been pretty demanding, but pretty satisfying. It felt good to be doing something positive, though some had been vocal about having been evicted out of Atlantis. Considering that only a week ago some of them had been rioting in the hallways, they were lucky that Colonel Sumner hadn't booted them out on their backsides far sooner. With surprising restraint, Sumner hadn't forced the issue with Colonel Carter, well not until the non-aggression had been signed. It seemed Colonel Carter had been on the same page, and with Rodney's constant whining about conserving the ZPMs' power and the food supplies, relocating the 'guests' had been this week's focus.

John had thrown himself into the work, overseeing many of the off world trips himself to arrange safe homes for the refugees, on the Beta Site or otherwise. The only break for him had been the first of his twice weekly trips to Athos with Woolsey a few days ago. However, Teyla hadn't been there, and though it had been a pleasant enough visit to Tjaru, it wasn't the same without Teyla there.

He still hadn't seen her since the Glisi world, since she had looked down at Kari' body and a cold frown had taken hold on her expression. She hadn't looked at him again afterwards. Sure she'd been busy helping with the clean up, in bagging up Kari' shrivelled fed-upon body and carrying it back to the Gate, but one glance in his direction would have been enough.

He understood the situation though; the anger, guilt, and pain at being too late to help someone. He'd been there, too many times.

He just hoped she wasn't lost in that dark place, that she hadn't thrown herself into a battle again out of vengeance. That was when you made mistakes. That was when life hit you down harder. And in Teyla's work, the Wraith would take any tiny weakness and...

The image of Kari' body replayed in his mind, having been haunting him all week. Not because of her personal loss really, he had barely known her and she hadn't liked him, but because seeing an Elite dead like that, a female strong Elite shrivelled, fed-upon...

He accidently sloshed some of his coffee over the rim as he stirred it hurriedly, spilling the hot liquid over his hand. Muttering a swear word to himself, he wiped off the mug and his hand, as behind him the Conference Room began to fill up.

"Leave some of it for the rest of us, Major," Evan Lorne said as he stepped up next to John. Between them, their teams had been the main players in the day's last refugee exodus.

"Surprised you need any after that knock on the head," John teased as he sipped eagerly at his coffee, but it was still too hot and the dull hurt of a faint burn to his tongue was his reward.

"The tent ceiling fell on me, not the poles," Evan objected. "It was your fault for not holding it up properly."

"Don't think we looked all that impressive," Aiden put in as he reached past and grabbed a bottle of water.

"It fell on their leader too," Evan pointed out.

"Think we're better suited to shooting bad guys," John said as he moved towards the chairs set around the large wooden conference table that Colonel Carter had brought with her when she had taken charge of Atlantis. That had been almost two years ago now. That long since Elizabeth had been killed, since the city had nearly been destroyed by the Wraith.

"No breakfast?" Lieutenant Lynn complained as she looked over the drinks.

"It's half eleven," Evan pointed out to his team member.

"We left in the middle of the night, course I didn't eat breakfast," Lynn argued. She had found the bowl of fruit at least.

"Didn't you have any of their morning stew?" Aidan asked as he sat down in a chair nearest the end of the table where Carter and Sumner would sit. The young guy was as eager as always.

"No, thank you," Lynn replied.

"Just because you had that unfortunate reaction last time," Evan teased as he selected a chair next to the one John was now sitting down in, his hands wrapped around the hot waking warmth of his coffee.

"That was food poisoning, Sir," Lynn replied.

"Sure it was," Evan replied with a grin.

"Now, now," Carson put in as he arrived in the room. "Gastroenteritis is nothing to be mocked."

"It is when a certain Lieutenant had to run out of a first contact meeting to use-"

"Major," Carson warned Evan. "Would you prefer we talked about how people might have injured themselves recently?"

John glanced at Evan's face to see a faint bloom of red show across his cheeks.

"What injury?" John pushed with interest.

"Nothing, it was nothing," Evan replied. "I fell in the shower, that's all." It so wasn't.

"We'll talk later, Carson," John said past Evan to the Doctor. He knew the Doc wouldn't betray medical confidence, but it would wind up Evan no end.

Carson shook his head with amusement as he headed to his own seat, which happened to be next to where John's newest team member had taken her seat. Lieutenant Cadman had arrived among the latest batch of newbies on the Daedalus recently, and after their usual customary week of Sumner scaring and testing them all, they had been assigned to teams. The Colonel liked to switch the teams around far too often for John's liking, he preferred to keep with people you know work well together. Though admittedly, every time the switches happened, he waited for Sumner to take his team away from him. It hadn't happened this time, and not only had Sumner let him stay a team leader, he had let Rodney and Ford stay with him and even given John the choice of which last new member to add to his team. There had been about four to choose from and John had gone for Cadman.

She was a good fighter from what he'd seen so far, followed orders well, and had a good sense of humour. That she also seemed to handle Rodney calmly, whilst simultaneously being able to annoying the scientist, also worked in her favour. John had no idea why the two didn't quite get along, but it was amusing to watch.

What was also amusing was her obvious crush on Carson.

As the Doc took his seat next to her, she smiled up at Scotsman and then back round. John caught her eye and made a pointed nod towards Carson next to her. She narrowed her eyes at him and he grinned back.

"Is everyone here?" Colonel Carter asked as she arrived into the room, Colonel Sumner close on her heels.

John glanced round. His and Evan's team were here, Carson, and now Rodney, who skirted in at the last minute with Zelenka behind him. The two men hurried towards the one remaining empty chair at the table. Rodney got there first and slid into the seat with an arrogant smile of victory. Zelenka sighed and rolled his eyes as he turned away to pull forward one of the spare plastic chairs stacked to the side.

Colonel Carter gave Rodney a glare as she set up her tablet in front of her.

"How did the final relocation go, Majors?" She asked John and Evan.

"All to plan," John replied. Minor the rather embarrassing show they had put on while they had struggled to put up the alien designed tents.

"Yes, Ma'am," Evan echoed.

"Is that all of them now?" Rodney asked.

"Yes," Carter confirmed.

"About damn time," Sumner added.

Carter pulled an expression that could have been agreement or a grimace, it was hard to tell. John imagined she was nothing but grateful that this week was over. She was looking tired, but then who wasn't around here?

"The camp is fully established?" Sumner asked John and Evan.

"Three separate camps on the Beta Site at the moment," John replied.

"I imagine they'll be splitting off again soon enough," Evan added. "Some were already talking about exploring further away from the Gate."

"Not surprising," Carter replied. "What's the latest on the food and water situation there?"

"The local stream still tested pure, so they'll be alright for water. They've got plenty of food for the next few days," John reported. "After that we're going to need to ship in supplies until they get some agriculture or trade of their own going."

"We've still got plenty of extra food coming in from Athos," Carter replied. "We need to make sure we set aside enough to be shipped to the Beta Site regularly for a while." Sumner nodded next to her and made a note on his tablet.

"Defences?" Sumner asked.

"We got a basic ditch and fencing system around the three camps," John informed him. "We'll leave the rest to them. There's plenty of timber around to use, and they've got their own carpenters and blacksmiths among them."

Sumner nodded. "Good work."

John froze in raising his mug to his lips. He glanced at Evan beside him who looked round subtly with a look of mutual surprise.

"Thank you, Sir," John replied carefully. Across the table, Carson gave him a soft smile.

This last week, since the treaty had been signed, John was almost convinced that Sumner was easing off on him a little. Not a huge amount, but with the whole getting to choose who was on his team, and now a real live compliment, in front of other people...

"The cleanup of the east pier is underway," Sumner continued to Carter.

"We need to switch off the power its drawing," Rodney muttered.

"ZPM power remains good and steady," Zelenka reported officially. "As the pier is empty, we have begun our investigation of the rooms there that we have not previously studied."

"How long is that going to take?" Sumner asked.

"By our current speed, my calculations say," Zelenka paused as he considered his answer.

"Next week," Rodney put in.

"No, no, far longer," Radik objected. "We still have the equivalent of a town of buildings to look through."

"A small town maybe," Rodney argued, as expected. "Most of the rooms are empty. I say a week, tops."

"That's only if you don't find anything of interest," Carter put in, "or potentially dangerous." The last point was made with special emphasis to Rodney.

Rodney shut his mouth with a faint shrug.

"Have we found anything of interest in the east pier already?" Carson asked.

"No," Rodney answered.

"Yes, actually," Zelenka replied. "We believe we have found two new water processing systems, a new atrium that we believe may have been used for experiments, and what appears to be kennels."

John looked round from his coffee. "Kennels? Like for dogs?"

"Probably not for dogs," Zelenka replied with a smile as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. "But they were clearly designed as small living spaces for some sort of animal. We're checking for any residual DNA that might indicate what was kept there."

"It would be highly unlikely that you'll find any useable DNA after all this time," Carson put in. "Not useless you find preserved hair or bone."

"Maybe they brought dogs here with them from Earth?" Lynn suggested.

"There weren't any dogs as we know them back then," Evan replied. "Ancestors of the wolf maybe though."

"Great, so Ancient pets," Sumner put in. "What about the experiment area?"

"There are a few devices that we are studying now. There are a few side rooms to it still to explore, so we will keep busy for the next few days," Zelenka answered. "As I said, it will take far longer than a week to go through everything."

"There's no great hurry," Carter said calmly. "We've been in the city for years now, and it'll probably take as much time to explore the entire city thoroughly."

"And that's if we don't get attacked or anything," John put in.

Carter gave him a pained smile and nodded. "Agreed, but for now, things look calm. So, I think it's time to focus on tidying and studying the east pier, consolidating our contacts with its former residents, and ensuring we have our new trades securely in place."

"We're off to Athos again tomorrow," John supplied for the table. He was due for one of his thoroughly boring pre-Athos meetings later today with the Colonels and Woolsey. "We could talk to Torren about increasing some trade for the Beta Site."

"What we need to trade for is advanced Alliance weaponry," Sumner stated.

"And Ancient technology," Rodney added with bitter eagerness. "You said you'd get us access to the Tjaru Ancient Gateway," he whined at John.

"I said I would ask for you," John reminded him. "And I did. It's not up to me if Torren will let you go poke around his stuff."

"He won't if you put it like _that_."

John rolled his eyes as he took another sip of coffee. "Of course I didn't phrase it like that, Rodney."

"I'm just saying, what's the point of all these visits and talk of trade if all we're getting is fruit and tava beans."

"Food is important, Rodney," Carter responded. "Besides, it's highly unlikely that the Athosians are going to let us into their most restricted areas yet, or hand over their top weaponry to us any time soon. We have to build trust over time."

"What about the Elite? We've built up trust with them, right?" Rodney pushed, his eyes turning back on John. "Can't you get them to share some weapons, or at least let me take a look at one of their ship engines?"

"Would you let them look over the Daedalus' engine?" John pushed.

"I might," Rodney answered unconvincingly.

"Or show them around the city's throne room or show them the ZPMs?" John pushed.

Rodney struggled for a second. "Maybe."

"No, you wouldn't," John accused him.

"It does bring up the question," Carter said, "that if the day comes when we can talk about this kind of trade, what do we offer in return for access to their Ancient tech and weaponry?"

"The Asgard technology may be of most interest to them," Zelenka answered.

"Do we want to share that? Should we share it?" Carter asked.

"Hermiod might have something to say about that," Cadman considered.

"True," Carter replied. "It might be out of our hands as to whether we can even consider it."

"I know Torren is real keen to see Atlantis," John said into the thoughtful silence. "The Athosians still worship the Ancients to a certain degree, so to them this city is...holy. Letting them poke around our stuff here might be enough."

Carter nodded thoughtfully and made a note on her tablet.

"I certainly know that the plastic boxes, pots, pans, and stationery we shared with our former guests went down very well," Carson added. "Perhaps we should be thinking more along those lines."

"A Tupperware sale?" John asked with a grin, though had to admit it was a good idea.

"I haven't seen anything close to a biro or even a pencil on any of the planets we've visited so far," Evan considered. "Maybe we could trade paper and pens."

"Musical instruments," Cadman added. "Books, furniture, crafts, even scrap metals might all be of some value."

"Especially with some of the newer Alliance worlds," Aiden said. "They've not got all the trimmings of being free of the Wraith for very long. Maybe some of them have even gotten hold of some Alliance weaponry we could trade for."

"No," Carter cut off that idea. "It's written into our Non-Aggression Treaty with the Alliance that we will not trade for any of their technology or weaponry outside of their borders."

Aiden looked downright sullen.

"Maybe we could get our hands on some Traveller weapons," John suggested trying to cheer him up.

"Which brings us to the fact that we haven't heard anything from the Travellers for a while, or from any of the Coalition group. With our new treaty, we may not be all that popular with them," Carter said.

"Or we might be able to offer them the reassurance from the treaty that the Alliance is not going to try to steal their land and people," Carson suggested.

"Unlikely," John answered him. "They were pretty het up about the Alliance, and we know someone, possibly Kolya, is still stirring up trouble."

"All the more reason for us to focus on the city for the moment," Carter replied. "I think it's best to consolidate here, which will also include the mandatory rest day that we've been planning for awhile. I'll be sending out a memo confirming the day, upon which _everyone_ will be off work. Understood?"

John noticed that Carson was grinning across the table as he mimicked what was possibly fishing. Next to the Doc, Cadman was chuckling silently in Rodney's direction. John leant forward to see McKay look away grumpily. He recalled something about Carson convincing Rodney to go on a fishing trip to the mainland some time. Ha, Rodney fishing.

"Our next dial up to Earth is tomorrow, so I want all reports emailed through to me by the end of the day, and any personal messages uploaded to Rodney," Carter continued. "Otherwise, well done today, everyone, and John I shall see you for our pre-Athosian meeting at 16:00 this afternoon."

"Yes, Ma'am," John replied immediately, though the promise of another Woolsey lecture was not exciting in the least. However, the prospect that Teyla might be in Tjaru tomorrow was very exciting. He'd really missed her this last week. He'd kind of gotten used to her being around so much recently. She'd been around during his visits to Tjaru and she'd even been staying in the city during the treaty talks. Now his quarters felt ridiculously empty and he was getting a little angsty at not seeing her, and worried that she might be off on some dangerous mission.

And then there were the replays of Kari' shrivelled Elite body in the snow...

"Any other business?" Carter asked.

"I need to organise a few more medical visits to the Beta Site for another round of inoculations," Carson said.

"Email me the days you want and we'll make sure that happens for you," Carter replied as she tapped a note to herself on her tablet.

"We need to test the throne chair again, following the latest software additions," Sumner said.

"The changes won't have done anything to the throne's interface," Rodney objected.

"Only one way to be sure," Sumner pointed out logically.

"Fine," Carter agreed. "Schedule it as you wish, Colonel."

"You need me for it?" John asked Sumner.

"If you've got time before Athos," the man replied.

"We can do it now if you want," John suggested and Sumner responded with what was almost an approving kind of nod.

"Doctor McKay?" The Colonel asked Rodney.

"Sure, okay," Rodney replied slightly meekly. "But, isn't it lunchtime?"

"If that's all," Carter asked leaving a pause into which no one said anything, "everyone's dismissed. And again, good work this week, everybody."

Everyone began to get up from their seats, Cadman talking with Carson, and Rodney already muttering about grabbing food on the way to the throne room. Next to John, Evan leant subtly closer.

"If I didn't know better," Evan said quietly, "I'd think the Colonel was starting to like you."

"Never gonna happen," John answered as he pushed his chair back into place at the conference table.

"You could be his best buddy," Evan continued. "Maybe even go fishing together, like Carson and Rodney."

John glared at him. "How did you hurt yourself recently then? Was there a lady involved?"

Evan's cheeks flushed again. "No, shut up."

"A guy then?" John pushed as he followed Evan out of the Conference Room, thoroughly enjoying himself. "A guy _and_ a girl?"

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TBC


	4. Waiting in Tjaru

**Note:** Thank you for the reviews, guys. I'm so glad people are still out there and can forgive me the long wait. As thanks, here are another two new chapters for this evening. X

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**Chapter 4 – Waiting in Tjaru  
**

It had rained all day on Tjaru. Thick grey clouds stretched as far as the eye could see, hanging like a thick heavy blanket smothering Athos.

It hadn't been a torrential fall, but a constant heavy drizzle of falling water, saturating everything and obscuring the view of the city and surrounding landscape. The air smelt fresh though, the trees in the orchard courtyard glistened as their fruity aromas drifted to Teyla through the rain. She drew it in; the smell of home, of Athosian rain on Athosian leaves and soil. It pulled at her earliest memories of living in the old village, when she had used to sit in the entrance of the family's tent, watching the water fall outside, drinking in the humid scent of the wet ground and bark filling her nostrils.

Today, she was not sat on thick canvas, but stood in an open doorway in the Governing complex, the orchard courtyard silent and private for the family to enjoy. Today however, because of the constant rain, she was the only one enjoying it; with the exception of Ketra, who was sat silently at her side, looking out at the trees and rain along with her.

Teyla lowered her gaze and her hand to Ketra, stroking her fingers over the dragon's warm smooth snout and head. She wondered what Ketra thought at having been sat here for some time with her, just looking out at the rain and drinking in the sense of home. Ketra sighed gently, appearing calm and relaxed at Teyla's touch, her orange eyes lifting briefly. Teyla smiled down at her pet and friend before looking back out to the courtyard, keeping her hand idly scratching Ketra's closest ear.

A distant tipper bird chirped across the courtyard, the sound pretty and familiar to Teyla. Ketra's head shifted in response under Teyla's hand, her ears moving with interest to track the creature's calls. Then further away, another bird responded, the sound bright and carrying easily through the air. Ketra's head shifted again as she listened to the new call.

On returning to Tjaru to assist with her own impending Political Marriage in two day's time, Teyla had been concerned that the time would be lost with discomforting worry and doubts, but instead she had found herself embraced into the busy and distracting comfort of family. Unlike the big noisy affair that had been Zabetha's wedding, Father had clearly understood that Teyla wished her own Political Marriage to be far quieter and contained. Whereas Zabetha's marriage had been very much a large public display, incorporating all local businesses in trade and celebration, Teyla's was to be quieter and more dignified. Celebration would take place, but in a more contained manner. It was befitting an Elite warrior, but Teyla knew, without having mentioned it to Father, that he understood that she wished it to be this way.

Zabetha's Political Marriage may have turned out to be one based on love and mutual understanding, but in that it was a rarity. Teyla felt nothing but gratitude for her sister's happy marriage to the strong, supportive man that was now Teyla's Brother by marriage. However, Zabetha had been lucky. Rhakshar was a kind and noble man, who was clearly deeply dedicated to Zabetha, and she to him. And as much as their wedding had echoed the joyful celebration of their union, Teyla was immensely grateful that her own marriage preparations were far quieter.

However, there were going to be far more guests than she had anticipated, but she trusted Father and Elkaska to have included only those most vital. She had noticed that Father had also imposed an almost military style directness to the planned marriage proceedings, keeping everything precise, concise, and not drawing out meals and negotiation rituals. Plenty of negotiations were no doubt occurring between her potential suitors, but here on Tjaru, all seemed calm and in control.

That fact had soothed her anxiety somewhat and eased the doubts that had kept turning in her mind in any quiet moment to herself.

This marriage would occur.

She was set on the course and there was no turning back now. This was for Athos, for the Alliance, and for the Elite. It would be a simple contract, and could be dealt with easily enough as such. It would not change who she was. This was for her people.

Yet, her mind kept traitorously returning to thoughts of John. At inopportune moments, brief sudden moments of being with him would linger into her thoughts. Watching Zabetha go through the planned menu for their guests had brought forth memories of eating with John in the bright, light Mess Hall in Atlantis. She found herself lingering on the recalled details of the alien foods he had shown her, how he had brought some of them to his quarters later and fed them to her with his fingers. The feel of his skin, of her cheek against his bare chest, and the taste of an Earth apple across her tongue.

Thoughts of him hovered everywhere, and no more so than in her own bedroom in the complex. There more than anywhere else did she have the strongest of memories of him, for not only had they made love so frequently there, but it had been where they had first kissed. The memories assaulted her daily life, so that even tiny details, such as brushing her hair, were filled with thoughts of him.

She knew it was normal, that she was not possessed. The memories and associations would fade in time. Yet, that realisation itself was as torturous as reliving his presence.

As was the knowledge, the fact, that John would visit Tjaru tomorrow and she would have to tell him about her impending marriage. She would have to put words together to break their affair and hurt him with her severance of their relationship in such a way.

She dreaded it, though she had convinced herself repeatedly that it was the correct decision.

There was no future for them. Their differing cultures, peoples, and lifestyles were so dramatically separated from each other that there could be no mutual future for them.

An Elite did not fall in love, or at least, did not stay in love.

Love was a distraction, an overwhelming, intense diversion from her path that it had caused great suffering already. The desire to be with John was so great that it had kept her from a vital battle, had drawn her away from responsibility and had cost a dear life. Elite needed to be focused, in love with only their mission, their life purpose to defeat the Wraith and protect all life.

She could not have both.

The decision had been made, and as much as the pain of it and the anxiety over the approaching confrontation with John filled her consciousness, it was the right one.

Besides, John needed to continue with his life focused on Atlantis and his own people. He would no doubt find another woman to love, who could provide him with a loving, dedicated family life.

She pulled her eyes down and away from the rain, the thought of him in love with another cutting deeply.

It was best for him though. It was best for her and the Elite.

She would tell him that he had brought a new light to her life, that he had touched her soul and offered her a respite from her military life that she would always value. Yet, it had to end. They had known as much when the affair had begun. They had openly admitted it, had known it would end, throughout all of their time together.

She just hadn't expected it to hurt so much.

Or that she would be so afraid of telling him it was at an end. She had faced all manner of evils, cruelties, and deadly situations, but waiting to speak to John, to end this love...

She had lain awake these past nights, practicing over and over the right words to say to him. She had tried to work out the best way to convey the importance and love she felt for him, but that more was at stake and that somehow he would be convinced by her words.

However, the truth was that she had no idea how he would react. She had tried to imagine each scenario, working out how she might handle each reaction, always remaining calm and steady in her resolve.

She suspected he would be cross that she had kept the marriage from him, but then she had not seen him since its conception in her mind. Yet, there were ways to reach him if she were truly motivated. She was not though. Putting off the moment of seeing him again, of being in his handsome, drawing presence and to then end it...

He had known that the affair would one day end, he had said as much. However, she suspected that he would try to convince her not to go through with the marriage, or perhaps to at least continue their affair. Lovers were accepted alongside a Political Marriage, as long as they were discreet, but she did not know how such a thing might fit with his own culture's ideals of marriage. They had never discussed Earth sexual politics.

It did not matter though, for she would end this affair now, even if he wished to continue it alongside the marriage.

She had to remove him from her life, to find emotional distance and emotional control once more.

She could not be the effective Elite warrior she needed to be with him distracting her heart and mind.

Kari had paid the price for that mistake and many more could follow if Teyla did not keep her focus. She could not let her fellow Elite down again.

Besides, love and comfort were not for Elite. She had always known they were to be sacrificed with her life's path, but it was only now that she truly understood why it was a sacrifice.

It wouldn't be a sacrifice if it wasn't giving up something she wanted so badly.

But, she also wanted her centre, her inner peace, and her control back. She wanted to be sure of herself again; to trust her decisions once more. She could not do that with her focus split.

And John was far too distracting.

She only hoped that in this decision she would not endanger the relationship between Athos an Atlantis. She could not imagine John being vindictive and trying to turn his leaders' minds against contact with Athos and the Alliance. He was not that way, yet her traitorous mind worried over it at night. She still believed, as hopefully he did, that it was only working together against the Wraith that would save them all.

That future was far more important than a love affair.

An Elite needed to focus on victory.

Besides, she had seen what could happen to a warrior in the grip of love.

Love had broken Massa's soul apart, it had turned Breack into a murderous traitor in order to please Iketani, and it had distracted herself during a vital mission that had cost Kari her life.

Love was not for Elite.

"Teyla," Father's voice called softly to her.

Turning, she looked away from the softly falling rain to see Father beckoning her back into the family dining area. Charin and Zabetha had been sat at the table for a couple of hours, planning, organising, and overseeing the minutia of the wedding day.

Father had been in and out of the room since the mid meal, attending meetings and taking link calls, though most had concerned her fast approaching marriage contract.

He stood now, dressed in the deep dark browns that complimented his complexion and made his dark eyes seemed deeper than usual. He lifted an electronic pad in silent explanation that the latest details had arrived in.

Teyla nodded before once more looking back out at the lovely rain. She stroked Ketra's head once more and then returned to her family's side.

In the time she had been looking out at the courtyard, Zabetha and Charin had finished the details of the seating arrangements. Much of the work had been done by Zabetha previously for her own wedding, however, political relationships, factions, and arguments shifted constantly and had to be considered. At least that had been Zabetha's explanation. Teyla was happy to let the two women organise such details. They understood and thought in ways that Teyla could not. They understood the nuances of such events in a way that Teyla gave little credit. However, she supposed that if the guests were military personnel, then she could think in such ways. Who supported who, which groups had been at odds over past events and recent battles. Those details she understood. Who had quietly snubbed someone's daughter at an official dinner seemed of far less importance than military strategy.

"I have placed him here, next to Ronon, that should keep him in line," Zabetha was telling Father.

"Is Ronon bringing his young son with him?" Charin asked.

"I am not sure," Zabetha replied, the upturn of her sentence rising in a question to Teyla as she approached.

"He was undecided last I spoke with him," Teyla replied. "It depends if the boy's cough subsides."

"If the babe is here or not," Father put it, "Ronon will still keep Keltree in line, I am sure."

"I will mention the matter to him," Teyla said with a smile as she settled back into her chair beside Charin and opposite Zabetha.

Zabetha handed over two pads. "See what you think, and this is the final meal plan from the chefs. They had to change a few ingredients due to availability and season."

"I am sure it is all fine," Teyla replied, but still took the pads. Both Zabetha and Charin had insisted in their gentle family way that she be involved in the entire process. She had told them that she would agree with whatever they selected, but they continued to include her in everything. She understood their reasons, the care and the odd enjoyment they seemed to gain from the planning. In truth it had been the first time she had worked with them both on a project and she was enjoying it as much as they were, despite her heart not being invested as deeply as theirs appeared to be.

She trailed through the menu, noticing immediately that, in keeping Elite ways, there was no meat in any of it. It was an unnecessarily requirement for the guests, but it was a thoughtful approach for Charin and Zabetha to take. There was nothing overly pretentious about their food selections either, for like the overall vibe of the wedding, the food was good, but simple and to the point.

She pressed her thumb to the seal of the menu and turned her eye to the long display of seating as she handed the food list back to her sister.

"The latest potential offering list has been drawn this evening," Father added as he sat at the head of the table, between Teyla and Zabetha's elbows.

Teyla had not realised that he had called her in for such news, she had assumed it was for the seating and food. Teyla pressed her thumb to the seating arrangement, trusting the two women before her, and reached out for the new pad from Father.

He handed it over. It was very warm to the touch as if he had been holding it tightly for some time. She imagined he had been working on it all day, updating it constantly with the latest links into the complex.

She triggered it on and saw only three names were left.

Three suitors.

One of which would be her husband.

As expected, General Maloo remained in the top place. "I assume the Genii will reduce the list further?" She asked Father.

"I suspect so," he replied as Zabetha laid a plate of food in front of him. "I do not think I have had so little meat in all my life," Father smiled as he picked up his fork. Zabetha had been utilising their meals as testing opportunities for the various meals the chefs had dreamt up as possibilities for the wedding banquet.

"The Inauguration Hall decorations are almost complete," Charin reported at a bleep from the pad closest to her.

"Is that Hakon reporting to you?" Father asked with amusement.

"Yes, Torren," Charin replied.

"He has other work to attend to," Father muttered.

"He is hardly one to shirk his duties is he," Charin replied with the familiarity of long friendship and extended family. "I simply asked him to send me regular reports on the progress of the drapery, banners, and the flowers. After all I am an elderly lady and cannot be constantly walking back and forth to the hall."

Torren frowned at her. "You hope he will take a fancy to the decorator you hired, you cannot fool me, Charin. Your hope is to breed familiarity between them in hopes that he will look up from his computer long enough to notice her."

Charin looked up from her pad, her elderly face slack with innocence. "I had not thought so far as breeding, Torren, that is your own imagination."

Teyla smiled and glanced across at her sister. Zabetha rolled her eyes.

"Charin, Hakon is a grown man, he can find his own wife. If he even wishes to have one," Zabetha added.

"Of course he does," Charin replied. "He is simply too busy to look."

"That is just what he told you to keep you off his back," Torren replied around a mouthful of roasted vegetable. "Mmm this one is good," he added to Zabetha. "Is this on the final menu?"

"Yes," Zabetha smiled at him.

"Good, good," Father replied as he cut up some more and began adding it to his mouth without having finished the first mouthful.

"You missed your mid meal again," Charin rebuked him.

"I was in several vital meetings," Father replied around his stuffed mouth. "After all you are distracting my assistant with watching drapery and decorators, so no one was available to bring me food."

"Because the complex has no other workers who could," Charin pointed out.

"I will ensure that the kitchen staff attend to you tomorrow," Zabetha put in with a tone that suggested no argument.

"If they serve this again, I will eat it all day," Father replied after swallowing another mouthful of food.

"Good, now these last three suitors," Charin swiftly changed the subject as she reached towards Teyla, asking for the pad.

Teyla handed it over.

"Mmm, I would be very surprised if these other two are not off this list by tomorrow morn," Charin uttered. "One is of Rosenthal and the Genii wish some mining contracts through their new links via their new Political Marriage with Sateda. Rosenthal will give in, but only once they have their highest price accepted. Maloo will remain."

Zabetha nodded. "More could step forward still, and I would not put it past Keltree to make a surprised offering in the ceremony, just to try to get the disputed moon territory back."

"Perhaps we should ask Ronon to stand with Keltree during the ceremonies as well," Father suggested with amusement, but some seriousness as well. "Or perhaps Honoured Elites Si and Halling could do so."

"I will mention it to Halling, he has links to Keltree's family through a second cousin I believe," Teyla considered.

"Do we keep Sitayi on the list, Charin?" Zabetha asked distractedly as she studied the seating plan again.

"I spoke with her sister only two hours ago," Charin replied. Teyla saw the concern on Charin's face, which they all shared following news of Sitayi' illness that had struck her while staying on her homeworld. "The fever has broken, so they have hope she will regain consciousness soon."

"Even if she does, will she be well enough to attend the ceremonies?" Zabetha asked with concern.

"If she is able, she will be here. She would not wish to miss Teyla's wedding," Charin replied with a soft smile. "Besides, you know of Pelydr's healers' fame."

"True," Zabetha considered.

Teyla heard a door open and close down the far end of the room and voices instantly rose. Teyla saw Zabetha react instantly to the sound of her husband's voice, looking up and round with a bright hopeful smile. It warmed Teyla's heart each time she saw her sister's reaction, as innocently open as it was. She glanced to Father to see him smile at her, perhaps having noticed the same.

Rhakshar's voice neared and with him Elkaska.

"I do not think that is the way to handle it," Teyla's uncle was stressing, but she recognised the enjoyment in his voice, despite the words – he loved trading debates and it appeared that Rhakshar did as well.

"The mining rights have to be dealt with delicately," Rhakshar replied. "Apologies for our delay," he said to the rest of the table. "I was speaking with my Mother and Father via link."

"They are both well?" Father asked around his latest mouthful of food as Rhakshar approached.

"Yes, they are," Rhakshar replied with a smile.

Elkaska broke away from his side to head straight for the food, but Rhakshar, as always, headed straight for Zabetha. She did not rise to greet him, but angled her head up towards him. Rhakshar stroked one strong hand over Zabetha's glittering hair as he leant down and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Hello, My Love," he whispered gently to her. "Have you had a successful afternoon?" He asked as their foreheads parted. It had not been the formal touch of foreheads as Athosians commonly used; their greetings were far softer and more loving. Teyla was not entirely sure what it was about the touch that made that fact clear, other than the obvious affection and the way their eyes remained shut with clear focus during the greeting.

It pleased Teyla to see such affection equal between them, and to see Rhakshar's ease now among his new Athosian family. However, today it recreated a sharp ache inside Teyla's chest to see it so plainly displayed. Yet, she could not take her eyes from her sister's happy face as she smiled up at her husband.

"It has been very successful so far," she replied up to him. "Have the latest caves been secured?" She asked, knowing all the details of his own family's mining company.

"Mostly," Rhakshar replied, stroking his hand over her hair one last time before he moved away towards the food. "Have you eaten?" he asked her. "Charin? Honoured Sister?" He added, including them in his offer to bring more food to the table.

"I would love some of the noodles in sweet wine if I may," Charin replied.

"I have eaten, thank you," Teyla answered him, though in truth she had been eating little lately.

"I will have some more," Zabetha replied as she rose up from her chair to accompany Rhakshar across all of the two metres to the food selection.

Teyla smiled with amusement as she looked to Father and then to Charin.

"Such a lovely man," Charin said quietly. "A shame that we cannot find you a better Genii General to sit at our table with you."

It had been a throw away comment, no harm meant by it on Charin's behalf, yet it cut deeply into Teyla this evening.

"He will not be required or expected to sit with us like this," Teyla reminded her. "It is only that Rhakshar is so welcome that he is." She knew her tone was a little sharp, but she could not hold it in.

"Genii food is not too bad," Elkaska put in as he sat down two seats from Torren, leaving the chair next to Zabetha's former seat empty ready for Rhakshar. "I worked with a Genii trader for many years, in fact there was this one time we were trapped on...what was the name of the planet?" He pondered out loud. "What do they call it now, Teyla? The one near the red giant with the fields of standing stones? The Genii ended up adding it to their Confederation."

"I believe they call it Kha," she considered. Behind Elkaska, his own pet, Umo, moved away from the food selection with obvious regret, which was when Teyla realised that Ketra was across the room, pressed in close between Rhakshar and Zabetha's legs, her snout snuffling at the food plates.

"Ketra," Teyla rebuked her quietly, knowing she would hear across the room.

Ketra looked round with a guilty expression and moved away from the tempting food. Teyla suspected that Zabetha had been giving Ketra a few titbits from time to time. Ketra slinked back around the table, her head low at being told off and at having missed a chance to eat something tasty. Rhakshar watched her move away with his usual caution. He was not entirely comfortable with the dragon, but he was growing more so. Ketra in return afforded him the same formal inattention as she did all those outside of Teyla's family or the Elite from the Sythus. And John. Although Ketra had hated John at first, it had quickly changed into something close to adoration for him. She treated him as family...

"Yes, Kha," Elkaska fortunately interrupted Teyla's drifting thoughts. "We used to call it Stone's Way," he chuckled. "There had been a small incident there with some other traders who had been after the new mineral ore we had found there."

Ketra was moving rather too slowly around behind Father and glanced up to see that Teyla was still watching her. Father had probably been supplying little extra pieces of food as well.

"Of course you found it first," Torren commented to Elkaska.

"Of course," Elkaska replied without missing beat. "They surrounded us-"

Beyond the archway out through to the lobby, Teyla heard the main door to the family area of the complex open. Ketra stopped and looked round the table with interest. The few steps across the lobby told Teyla that it was Hakon approaching.

"Ketra," Teyla warned.

Ketra had recently taken to following Hakon, seeming to find something curious about him. Hakon appeared to trust Teyla when she told him that Ketra would not harm him, but it had unnerved him to find the dragon stalking him around the hallways of the complex. Yesterday morning, he had had to make a wide loop through the complex back round to the family area to return to Teyla with Ketra in tow and to express his concerns. Ketra had tried again to follow him yesterday evening, but Teyla had stopped her. She suspected Ketra's curiosity was borne of the fact that Hakon was always in motion, always moving from one area to another. Even his mind appeared to always be in motion. Even if he was present during a meeting alongside Father, Hakon's mind was still working, making notes on his computer, probably doing admin work whilst simultaneously listening to conversation.

The man in question now entered the dining area, only to pause at seeing Ketra's orange eyes watching him around the corner of the table.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan," Hakon greeted warily.

"She will not harm you," Teyla assured him again. Hopefully it was true.

"I trust you in that Honoured Elite," Hakon replied with a smile, though his eyes kept moving back to Ketra. "There is a link call for you."

Teyla stood up from her chair. "Who is it from?"

"It is Honoured Elite Halling," Hakon replied, his eyes still on Ketra.

"Excuse me," she excused herself from her family, aware of their faint concern. She imagined they worried that she was about to be called away on urgent duty and that their wedding plans would be delayed. Teyla doubted that would happen – there were enough Elite to handle urgent matters without disturbing her work here. Halling had been contacting her twice daily with updates anyway on the new engine, so she suspected it was simply his evening call.

As she moved past Ketra, the dragon fell in at her side, but Teyla saw that Ketra keep her eyes on Hakon; who kept his eyes on her in turn.

"Have you upset her at all?" She overheard Father ask Hakon as she and Ketra left.

"No," Hakon replied quickly. "I have done nothing new."

"How go the decorations, Hakon?" Charin's voice interjected with obvious curiosity that extended far enough the actual factors of banners and flowers. "Do you not think Xiomara's work is beautiful?"

Teyla turned to head up to her own quarters to take the call from Halling. She could receive the link in one of the offices, but had found that she preferred to keep away from the offices if possible. Her Elite presence usually unnerved people who were not family and she preferred to be able to speak openly with Halling in privacy. As she and Ketra moved up the stairs, she faintly heard Hakon's reply to Charin's question.

"Yes, it is pleasant enough."

Teyla did not think Charin's plans were unfolding as she had hoped.

She made it to her quarters swiftly and triggered up the link to Halling even before her door shut behind her and Ketra. Ketra headed immediately to her favoured place on the rug, as the link established on the large screen in front of Teyla.

"Greetings, Halling," she said immediately as Halling stepped into view, having been working on something else as he waited for her to join the conversation.

"Greetings, Teyla," he replied with one of his soft familiar smiles. "How go the wedding preparations?" He had asked this each time, his former doubts on the event now either well hidden or accepted by him.

"It is all proceeding as expected. Zabetha and Charin appear to be rather enjoying it all still."

"I suspect they never predicted the day that they would plan such an event for you," he replied and his tone told her it was an honest point, not a subtle rebuking of her decision.

"Perhaps. Is the new engine operational?" She asked.

"Yes, we have completed three successful tests," he replied with a smile. "As you can see, I have all of my lights on now," he smiled faintly, referring to the limited power supply they had endured during the Sythus' engine refitting. "Ru has made some alterations after each test, but is now content with everything."

"That is good," Teyla replied honestly.

"We will be leaving for Athos tomorrow," he added.

She paused. "You are bringing the Sythus here?"

"Of course," he replied. "To honour your day and to ensure that Elite participation is clear to the rest of the Alliance."

Teyla had not expected such support. "Thank you, and thank the others for me."

"I will," Halling replied with a gentle incline of his head.

"You and Si will be at the ceremonies still?" She found herself checking.

"Of course."

"Only Father has a small job for you, if you are happy to assist."

"He wishes me to babysit Keltree perhaps?"

Teyla smiled. "How did you guess?"

"He asked me the same at Zabetha's wedding."

"He did?" Teyla asked. "He never told me."

"Perhaps he felt you would feel obliged to be the one to enforce the man's silence. Either way, I will be happy to assist once more."

"Is there any other news?" She asked. "I read the latest reports from the emergency meeting of the Military Council."

"Yes, Nalla briefly returned to the ship. She appears somewhat tired of the work and is looking forward to joining us on the mission to the Outer Lantana battle. The Military Council have decreed a full investigation into what they are, for now, referring to as "military equipment proliferation"."

"They are hoping not to antagonise the High Council," Teyla translated.

The Elite had recently discovered that the High Council were not only secretly building their own warships, but that they had been doing so with military equipment; some of which had been stolen directly from Elite stores.

"Hmm that may already happen," Halling added gravely.

"What else has happened?"

"Oneakka continues on his campaign. He took Seeal with him again early this morning to raid the home of a private banker named Hlrolfu. There is evidence that he worked with Esna Toshka, who you know Oneakka visited yesterday." Teyla recalled that Oneakka had 'visited' Esna Toshka's home after finding evidence that the man had possibly had past dealings with Iketani.

"What happened with Hlrolfu?" She asked.

"There was evidence a plenty in the man's computer system, but the telling part was a digital lock of some description that Seeal placed on Hlrolfu's personal currency account. In the hour after the raid, fifteen individuals attempted to hack into the account to claw back money from Hlrolfu."

"Very condemning," Teyla concluded.

"Indeed. Oneakka is out now with Si, Seifer, Madesh and Seeal rounding up those fifteen. Division is assisting and Hlrolfu's home has been officially sealed."

"Does he have any link to the High Council?" Teyla asked as she moved back a few steps to sit down as they talked.

"None that we can find so far. However, the new problem with the High Council is not with regard to the stolen ship parts. It is about Oneakka's visit to Esna Toshka. Toshka has officially complained to the High Council about Oneakka's invasion of his home. He is calling it a breach of his personal belongings, a breach of Elite powers, and is accusing Oneakka of theft."

"He complained to the _High_ Council?"

"It is an official complaint and he is calling for restitution."

"From the Elite?" She asked in shock. "To officially complain about the Elite is shocking as it is, but to do so to the High Council and not the Military Council will cause trouble. Has the complaint been passed to the Military Council?"

"Not yet," Halling replied pointedly.

That was not good. Their delay in following clear procedure suggested either that the High Council were concerned about Esna Toshka being exposed in some way, or that some wished to use the complaint against the Military Council somehow. Tensions between the two Councils had been rising of late.

"Alliance law is clearly on our side," Teyla commented.

"Perhaps, but our evidence for breaking into his home is the unauthenticated copy of Dreamstation's illegal operations outside of Alliance space, given to us by a known criminal. I am not sure that would stand up to much legal scrutiny."

"Did Oneakka discover any evidence during his visit to Esna Toshka?" She asked.

"Toshka was not home at the time," Halling felt it important to point out. "Oneakka and Seeal met some 'resistance', as Oneakka referred to it. They were unable to access Toshka's computer. Even Seeal, with her superior hacking skills, was not able to access the data quickly enough. Toshka has some unique code and storage system with self destructive features."

"So they could not even copy it."

"No, but out of time, Oneakka instead decided to find a solution that only he could," Halling said with that smile he only used in relation to their friend, it was both tired and amused. "He stole Toshka's computer's central core and processors."

"All of it?"

"Tore the entire unit out of the wall, I would guess judging from the pieces of plaster and paint that were still attached to it."

"You have it on the Sythus?"

"Yes."

"Which explains Toshka's dramatic step in complaining to the High Council," she realised. "He wants it back before anything on it has been decoded, and is likely calling upon his powerful friends in the High Council to assist him."

"That is Oneakka's theory as well. Toshka, as we know, has many powerful contacts across the Alliance, if he brings all those to bear then there could be trouble."

"He would only do so if he had something to hide," Teyla suggested.

"Or he may be innocent of what Oneakka believes him to be, but guilty of something else. Perhaps the computer core holds evidence of other crimes, such as political fraud or even blackmail, which Seeal has suggested. That might explain how Toshka has so many friends in such powerful places, but also that would motivate some to protect Toshka against the Elite." Teyla imagined that if this were true, that there were some very nervous worried individuals in the Alliance right now. "Toshka is stating that we are not legally entitled to steal and access his personal computer system," Halling added.

"We are within our right if we believe the security of the Alliance to be in jeopardy," Teyla argued. "And we know Iketani worked not only with criminals outside of the Alliance, assisting in attempting to destabilise the Alliance border push, but also that she had dealings directly with a Wraith Queen."

"True, but perhaps it would be best for us, politically and legally, to wait and allow the Military Council, in conjunction with the Elite and Division, to decode Toshka's computer core together. That would ensure that we are not seen to be implicating Toshka in response to his complaint and to cover our possible "illegal" operation."

"I am surprised that Oneakka has allowed you to hold him back from decoding the computer core," Teyla mused.

"I think once the evidence, even if unproven, was in hand, he was more interested in moving on to his next target, not allowing Toshka time to warn others before Oneakka could get to them," Halling replied. "He is very driven on this once again, and Seeal's presence is not helping in that regard."

"She is driving him on?" Teyla asked with surprise – as if Oneakka ever needed encouragement on his one man war on those who had worked with Iketani.

"No, I mean that she is on the ship for only a limited time, so he is using her knowledge as much as possible. I have no doubt that there will be more raids in the next two days before we leave to Outer Lantana."

"Has Madesh moved into his quarters on the Sythus?" Teyla asked.

"Yes," Halling confirmed. "He is assisting in the raids."

"Has he confirmed that Seeal is to be trusted?" She asked, very interested, and perhaps a little nervous, about the answer. After all, she had been the one Seeal had approached with her new information. Teyla, with Oneakka and Halling's support, had supported her case with the other Elite.

Halling lifted his eyebrows. "Not only has he confirmed that she can be trusted in this hunt, but the two appear to have formed a friendship of sorts."

"Really?" Teyla asked, surprised. "Though, I suppose they do have much in common now."

"Indeed, though I have my concerns that she might lead him back down the path away from honour once more," Halling wondered.

"You believe they are not to be trusted together?"

Halling sighed. "No, in truth they both appear to be eager to please Oneakka in assisting him. Madesh to prove himself and regain honour, as he always has admired Oneakka from the start, and Seeal to prove herself to gain her clean record. Though, the near _constant_ arguing between her and Oneakka is starting to grate a little."

Teyla tried not to smile at Halling's pained expression. "It should not be for much longer, Halling. It sounds as if between them they are stirring up exactly what Oneakka had hoped, and perhaps finally we will discover what hidden evils Iketani has perhaps left behind in Alliance territory."

"Perhaps. I will be happier when we begin our mission," Halling replied. "And of course to see your marriage contract completed, for Athos."

She nodded, knowing that he had added that point only for her benefit. He did not disagree with her motives, but he did not see all that much benefit for her and the Elite in this contract. Perhaps neither did she really, at least not yet. Perhaps in time the Elite would gain from Genii weaponry and ship design.

"Do you know yet who will make the final offerings?" Halling asked.

"There are currently three. However, it is most likely that it will be General Maloo who will make the single finally offering."

"The Genii will have gained a lot of trade and contracts out of the endeavour then," Halling considered.

"As will have those who traded themselves out of the list of offerings," she added. "The Genii at least appreciate military work and should have some goods to offer to us in the future, and for Athos it will secure good trade outside of agriculture for a change."

Halling nodded silently at that. Halling did not overly care for Genii, their tight, restrictive, concealing nature being considerably different to that of any Athosian, even Elite Athosians as they both were.

"We will have to be careful with a Genii on the Sythus," he said eventually.

Teyla nodded at that. "As we would any other man on the ship," she felt the need to point out. "But I take your point," she added.

"I will do some further research into Maloo. Perhaps talk to Saoka to see if he knows anything helpful."

"Thank you," she replied. "Has Si spoken with Saoka since he and Oneakka visited his station?" Since they had accused Saoka of trading in stolen Elite equipment. She wondered how that had affected Si' close friendship with the master trader.

Having known Saoka well herself, though far more intimately than many knew, she still found herself wondering if Saoka had known that some of the military equipment being moved through his stations had been Elite in origin. The man had eyes everywhere and she found it difficult to believe that he would have missed what was happening.

"No, they have not," Halling replied. "Si has not spoken of it, even when I asked directly."

Teyla nodded slightly sadly. "Perhaps when you speak with Saoka yourself, you could pass along my regards, perhaps it will help. Even extend to him an invitation to my wedding."

Halling shared her smile. "Is that intended to help the situation?"

"It might, he could enjoy some good trade among the powerful who will be attending, or at least show his own power by being there."

"I will suggest it, he might even take you up on the offer," Halling considered. "Either way, the offer might be a good balm on relations."

Teyla nodded, but seriously doubted that Saoka would attend.

"I will contact him now in fact," Halling considered. "Before I forget once Oneakka will no doubt return having stirred up more stinger nests."

"Let me know what happens with the High Council," she asked.

"I will. Nalla sends her regards. She says she has missed your discussions and wishes you well for your marriage day."

"Thank her for me. It will be good to have her back with us for the mission afterwards."

"Indeed," Halling replied. Teyla was almost certain that Halling was completely unaware of Nalla's affection for him. It was a relaxed admiration that appeared in no way to affect Nalla's friendship with him or alter her behaviour, but Teyla, Si, and Oneakka saw the affection in her. There certainly was no point in mentioning it, for not only had they had agreed not to, but because Nalla was more than aware of everyone's emotions around her. If she felt Halling would share her affection she would know. It was better that Halling not know and not feel discomfort around Nalla.

Such things naturally happened among their number, as they did among any group of men and women living together. They all knew that Oneakka liked Nalla, but the interest was not returned, and Teyla sometimes wondered if his interest was more a reaction to seeing her interest in Halling. The old romantic rivalry between Halling and Oneakka for the same Elite woman, who had passed to the Ancestors some time ago now, had been set aside by them both, but Teyla often wondered if it still showed a little in the men's friendships with Nalla.

"I will contact you tomorrow," Halling finalised.

"Good luck with Oneakka," she replied as she got up and moved across to the communications screen.

Halling nodded and smiled before he closed the link.

She reached out and closed her end of the link and watched as updates flowed across the screen. She had received a few standard communications from across Athos, mostly requests for sparring time. She did not have much time for that on this visit, but she would agree to a few. She sought out Vako's name, the supreme Bantos champion this year across the Athosian worlds. She always made time for him as his skills were advancing greatly and he presented an enjoyable challenging civilian opponent. She tapped a confirmation to spar with him early tomorrow morning, and sent standard regrets to the other requests, yet suggesting they contact again in the future.

To her right, Ketra stirred, her large yet quiet feet padding past Teyla. Teyla glanced round, curious as to the direction the dragon was moving. Ketra moved sleepily into the corner of the room closest to Teyla and reached up with her long silver neck towards the potted plant set on the lowest shelf.

The blossom plant that John had given to Ketra.

It had been flourishing since he had given it to them, its blossoms unfurling in greater numbers, particularly lately.

Mino was equally a pleased with the other gifted Earth blossom planet now placed with pride of place in the newly restoring Blossom Courtyard. Mino was excessively proud that Tjaru owned a plant from another galaxy, and gardeners from across the Athosian worlds had actually come to visit it, to touch it and study it. A few cuttings had even been carefully taken, after clear instructions had been discussed with botanists on Atlantis, and apparently the cuttings had taken good root in pots in Mino's growing hut.

Mino watched carefully over the cuttings, telling Torren that they would be considerably valuable gifts to other worlds if he wished to use them. Father said he had even received requests to purchase a cutting of the plant from traders and system leaders.

Yet, here Teyla had her own entire plant of her own in her quarters, which either the cleaners or Father made sure was watered correctly for her whilst she was away. Or perhaps Mino knew about it and had been caring for it properly, she was not sure. Either way, her own plant, or rather Ketra's, looked extremely healthy. It had grown in height and the blossoms were a creamy ivory with pink centres. Ketra had not devoured the plant as John had originally expected, and even if Teyla picked a blossom and gave it to Ketra, the dragon seemed unwilling to eat it, not that she didn't in the end. Teyla wondered if it was because of the huge dressing down Ketra had received after obliterating the Blossom Courtyard, or if was it that she did not like Earth blossoms as much.

Teyla watched Ketra snuffle her snout among the blossoms now, as if enjoying their scent, but she did not damage the pretty flowers.

Teyla focused on the flowers, so healthy and so seemingly normal, but the plant was not from this galaxy. It was alien, yet so pretty, so perfect in its place in her home.

She looked away from the representation, swiftly closing her thoughts away from John.

Part of her wished for tomorrow to arrive as quickly as possible now, to have this tense waiting resolved and to be able to finally put him behind her.

To be free.

Yet, knowing that moment would arrive in less than one turn of Athos, she also wished she could delay it a little longer. To dwell in the bitter sweetness she had found with a man she could never have, could never wholly give herself to. How ironic that of all the men in the galaxy, she had been drawn to one not of it and with whom she had no future.

Fate it seemed had a cruel twist to its nature.

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TBC


	5. Rumble in Rimba

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**Chapter 5 – Rumble in Rimba  
**

Dusk was a distant promise on the horizon of Rimba, though from the thick industrial smoke billowing up from the multitude of distance stacks, Seeal had to wonder if they could tell some days. She hadn't been to Rimba before, though she had heard of it plenty. It was an industrial centre, teeming with life, but in truth, it was mostly known by those on Dreamstation as a location for Alliance criminals to exchange their 'goods' and then enjoy some playtime in the evenings. Located close to the edge of a quiet section of the Alliance border, it wasn't all that interesting to anyone except those looking for a planet with work that had decent pay and a healthy night life.

You could pretty much find any kind of poison here – hidden gambling establishments, alcohol aplenty, drugs if you knew who to ask, which included Quantum, and performance enhancing specialties that were more widely known. It was the kind of backwater "always pays their Alliance taxes on time and in full kind" of planet that didn't get all that much attention, but did have a small Alliance enforcement presence that ensured that everyone felt safe from any potential Wraith invasions this close to the border.

Rimba was also home to some seriously rich industrialists who had helped create the smog problem and who had taken full advantage of the planet's playtime addiction once work hours were over.

One such industrialist was soon to have a visit from a rather grumpy Elite warrior.

It was their fourth trip of the day, and from what she had heard, would hopefully be the eleventh arrest of the fifteen who had tried to cover their asses by sneaking back their money from Hlrolfu's personal banking account. The rest of the required evidence to convict Hlrolfu, and any associated with him, had been rather pathetically concealed in his home database. The man had his hand in a multitude of underhand political influences, blackmailing, extortion, and good old simple theft. No wonder Iketani had used him.

The trick was to catch these next fifteen who had been paying Hlrolfu, before they realised they were being hunted and fled Alliance territory, though Seeal suspected a couple would already have been smart enough to notice something was up and had left for Dreamstation.

It was strange being on the other side of that equation. Normally she had encountered such characters when they had arrived on Dreamstation, at which point she had threatened them to behave and kept a close eye on them. Now here she was helping to catching such people before they managed to escape to somewhere like Dreamstation. She had to admit, it felt like the better side.

However, the problem with the rich and powerful in the Alliance was that they were rather attached to their power and gathered personal trinkets. Toshka's home, for example, had had evidence enough of that lifestyle. The small mansion that she and Oneakka had 'visited' had held thick rich carpets, and an entire wall of gold leafed detailing overlooking a massive hand carved hardwood desk in Toshka's personal office. The desk alone would have cost a fortune.

It wasn't now though, not after she and Oneakka had hidden behind it after he had 'liberated' Toshka's computer core from the wall behind the gold leaf.

The man certainly was determined.

She shifted her gaze to him now, stood in his dark brown armour, the metal fastenings on the side the only shining aspect, well oiled and cared for. Against his back he wore several short scabbards holding varying knives and one short sword. On each hip he wore a stunner, and strapped to one thigh was a fully loaded lethal projectile gun that she had seen shoot a rather neat hole through one of Toshka's perfectly painted interior walls to take out some of the security who had been firing at them. He had followed up that attack with some of the small throwing knives hidden in a boot.

Keeping up with him had been a very focusing mission in itself, as she had done for the four other missions today. Madesh was looking slightly worse for wear, as were the two Division men who were still with them.

She glanced round at Madesh, his arms and shoulders were thick with muscle that made proven to make him slower than her today. He was good though, clearly having picked up much of Oneakka's unique fighting skills, which included throwing whatever was to hand at the enemy. She appreciated that kind of fighting style, having been of the same mind during her own real life street fights and pit fighting in the past.

All that was going to be needed for the next mission though.

Madesh glanced at her, having sensed her attention, and smiled faintly. He was tired, but he was a fighter. Surprising considering he was supposed to be a human lie detector.

He rather reminded her of a young kid she had lived alongside on the streets at one point, though that boy had fallen to the hands of the Wraith.

She looked away from Madesh and returned her attention to the building just below the rise on which they stood.

Plenty of people were pouring across the flat space surrounding the large open sided building. The building stood on the edge of the largest of Rimba's rivers, but it wasn't water Seeal would want to take a dip in. Rimba's heavily industrial buildings and factories that lined all the rivers and its off shoots, no doubt flushed their contaminated and dirty waste out into the rivers' flowing mess.

A mess was also a good description of the large building ahead of them. It was clearly one of the older factories and had probably originally just held harvest grain brought in on the boats from the more agricultural areas of Rimba, traded in to feed the growing population of New City.

Seeal wondered if the people of Rimba actually knew what 'new' meant, because this building, and the others stretching along this part of the river's edge, looked to be at least a hundred years old. She would bet that the particular building ahead them had never been designed to hold as many people as were pouring into it right now. If it had once held grain, now it clearly held barrels of the fermented version. Music blared out through the brick archways that led inside, the music excessively heavy on the beat and on the shouted, likely abusive, lyrics mixed in with the odd electronic whine that was probably supposed to be musical.

The place had archway entrances around all the sides, had at least two levels to it, the top supporting a surrounding open balcony, and it looked like it was probably only held up by sheer hope and blind ignorance of basic building maintenance.

From a raiding point of view, the place had more exits than a sieve.

It had to be the worst place to storm with the intention of catching someone, but raiding was what Oneakka had in mind.

The club's owner, a man called Douro, had had a considerable share in Hlrolfu's account. Douro had a lot of power here on Rimba, and from the limited profile she had read on the way here, he was not the type to run away from anything he had greedily gained. He would still be here, and the Alliance enforcement who had met Oneakka at the Portal had reported that the industrialist hadn't left the planet and had been seen only an hour beforehand.

Apparently he was here in the club, as he was every night, so much so that he practically lived here.

Which said to her that Douro had established himself a powerful little nest on this world, and he probably thought he was safe here.

Clearly he hadn't met Oneakka.

"What's your plan?" She asked the silent Oneakka. If he was tired from the day's raids, he didn't show it at all. She wondered if he ever got tired.

"We go in there," he replied succinctly.

Seeal rolled her eyes. "Wow, I'm so glad I have this opportunity to learn from such inspiring Elite wisdom."

He turned his head enough to give her a glare over his shoulder with one sharp blue eye shining out from the non-tattooed side of his face. In the lowering light, his overly pale complexion made him seem not too unlike the stories of ghosts and demons that had so often been spread between street kids. He wasn't a demon of course, but he could be said to have the terrifying determination of one, which he had set course to run down those linked to Iketani.

"There are hundreds of exits from that place, he could run in any direction and get away easily," she explained the obvious. "He'll have his own security in there too. They'll have orders to stop anything that kicks off in there, and if they happen to accidently shoot some of us it'll be brushed off later as simply a case of not being able to identify us in a "darkened environment". They'll fight because they're paid to and he'll have picked thick-headed morons to be his security, ones who don't think too readily."

"They can fight if they want to," Oneakka replied simply as he looked back to the building. "He'll be central, second level."

She nodded her agreement to that blunt assessment.

"You want us to go in quietly first?" Madesh offered, eager to please Oneakka as always.

However, offering to go in first and leave Oneakka behind was not the way to impress the man. If anything impressed him.

"We go in, head for the centre of the building, stop anyone in our way," Oneakka ordered before moving down the rise towards the building.

Seeal hurried down the sandy bank behind him, Madesh to her right and the two Division men to her left.

"There are innocent civilians in there, right?" She asked as she slid down the last foot to reach the solid flat ground behind Oneakka. "Aren't you supposed to care about people like that?"

"I didn't say kill anyone," Oneakka clarified.

"Then I need a stunner," she pointed out.

"No," he replied immediately, as he had every time she had asked for a weapon over the last two days.

"I've needed one twice today already," she objected. "I took one off you yesterday at Toshka's. Why can't I have one of my own?"

"No," Oneakka replied simply.

"Afraid I'm going to shoot you by accident?" She asked.

They were among the club attendees now, who were moving swiftly away as soon as they spotted Oneakka and his aggressive pace in towards the central brick archway at the front of the building. The music was growing louder and had to be all but deafening inside.

"Not by accident," Oneakka replied to her as he pulled out a stunner from a hip holster.

She shook her head at his back, though she could feel her adrenaline rising like a rising nervous thrill through her veins, readying her for the fight to come inside the club.

She hadn't been in this much combat in years, and it was bringing back to life so many memories from her pit fighting days, the drive to keep going, despite the growing tiredness in her limbs and the faint ache to her eyes. Or was that ache from the strange coloured light show that was dancing over the crowd and the brick columns and ceiling as she followed Oneakka into the club?

As soon as Oneakka was through the entrance he began pushing people aside. Though, in his defence he wasn't shooting at anyone.

People looked round defensively, some angry, but almost all of the them backed away immediately upon seeing Oneakka - and her and the others backing him up. Sure because they were just as scary as Oneakka.

One security man nicely demonstrated her previous description of the type of men Douro had hired, as he stepped in front of them, one hand out. Whatever order he thought would work against an Elite was lost in the loud volume of the music blaring out from further inside the building behind him.

Seeal almost felt sorry for the man, who clearly felt he had some position of respectability and power in the club.

Oneakka's stunner took him down before his mouth stopped moving with this order.

As Seeal stepped over the stunned body, she quickly retrieved the gun at the man's belt. She held it up for inspection in the flashing spinning lights as she following Oneakka through what was now an increasingly widening path ahead of them.

Oneakka's stunner went off again as another couple of would-be security tried to intercept him.

Confident that she held a stunner and not a lethal weapon, Seeal fired off to the left where another man was fast pushing his way through the drugged up confused looking club attendees.

Her shot had taken out a couple of the clubbers as well, but they would be okay.

The inside of the club building looked pretty much the same as the outside. It appeared to be constructed entirely of bricks, small, dark red bricks that formed square columns in long lines, forming archways ahead of her and the others. She ran her eye up one column as she passed it, noting the crumbling edges that ran up to a small vaulted ceiling. The place was built rather like a honeycomb of small vaulted spaces, which resulted in a strange affect on the vibrating sound waves hitting the ceilings, archways, and columns. As she followed Oneakka through another vaulted space the music seemed to be coming from above her, growing louder, and then fading as they matched out, stunning where necessary and frightening the clubbers out of the way like a predatory fish through a school of tiny flipper fish.

Abruptly they reached the centre of the building, the archways finally giving way to a large central space. Oneakka walked under the last archway and stepped out into the main club dance floor. Seeal followed him into the open space, looking up to see that the ceiling here was at the full height of the building, two levels up.

The large dance floor was packed with dancing clubbers, and the source of the offensive music was revealed. A stage across the large space was surrounded by various sizes of electronic speakers which pounded out the noise made by the band playing on the stage. The singer was a woman, barely dressed in strips of black fabric which only just covered her bare essentials, who undulated and screamed into her microphone, appearing as drug-filled as those she was singing for. Behind her, two men slammed manically away on a series of drums, and another two attacked various instruments that were played with equal high abandon.

Seeal frowned at the group, dismissing them as important, and turned round, scanning the rest of the large dance floor.

Behind her, above the archways through which she had followed Oneakka, there was a mezzanine level, from which a packed group of revellers were watching the dance floor below.

In the centre of the viewing platform, a throne stood among the other simple chairs, upon which was sat Douro, coated in more of the barely dressed women.

Douro hadn't noticed he had a new audience until this moment. Seeal lifted her unfamiliar stunner, sighting along the scope on top, at the precise moment that Douro finally realised something was happening below his throne.

He looked round and down to the widening space on the floor that she, Oneakka, Madesh and the Division were creating.

Seeal squeezed the trigger. Her shot blasted out, but Douro was already reacting, throwing one of his decorative women between him and the blast. The woman went down instantly, and the club seemed to explode with screams, stunner fire, and chaos.

Seeal kept her eyes on the throne, but Douro had thrown himself to the floor. The others up there were trying to run, but the Division men and Oneakka's own stunner fire lit up the mezzanine level. Revellers dropped over chairs and decorative women were screaming and flaying their arms around as they struggled to escape.

Oneakka had used the same 'stun first sort out the mess later' technique several times today. The problem was that Douro was up and running behind those still upright, using them as shields.

Seeal kept firing, though was aware of movement ahead of her through the archways. Security back-up was on its way.

She looked back up to the mezzanine level to see a shot from Oneakka clip Douro and the man tumbled to the floor, out of sight.

But, she didn't have any more time. Thick-headed security were running at her through the archways. Stunner fire blasted over her body, dissipated by Elite technology. It still tickled though.

She fired at the two coming right at her, and ran at them. At the front of the attacking force, the two men weren't expecting her to run at them and they hesitated, which resulted in others ploughing into their backs.

Stunner fire poured past Seeal from her support as she smacked the butt of her stunner into the jaw of one security man, which took her fully bodily into the next. He caught her, surprised at her sudden arrival. She slammed her elbow into his cheek, dropping them to the ground.

She caught herself before she landed on the man, rolled away and rose up, now back under the archways to find more idiots coming at her. Stunner fire tickled over her again. They didn't learn very quickly.

"Yes, that's it," she muttered as she kicked out hard and fast at one knee, punching out and round at another. "Just keep firing, maybe it'll work eventually. Idiots." She punched another stomach, thrusting her shoulder into his middle a second later, pushing him backwards into another guy. Unfortunately, someone had gotten hold of her sleeve, so she went partway down with them.

Stunner fire blasted up past her, the man's trigger finger spasming with the fall, and she heard the energy fire hit the small section of vaulted ceiling above them.

The music had stopped, but the new chorus of shouting, stunner fire, and screaming was almost as loud.

Hitting the floor, with two men under her to cushion her fall, Seeal twisted and thrust the heel of her palm against the underside of the uppermost man's chin. He went limp under her.

She scrambled up, darting aside as more stunner fire whistled right past her head. She pressed her back against a brick column, letting the rapid stunner blasts fire past on either side. Dust was falling down through the air, and she brushed it off her face.

A glance round into the dance floor showed her only Madesh and one Division man in view. They were in the thick of fighting.

The stunner fire paused and she took her moment, spinning quickly round it and fired her own borrowed stunner at the five men advancing on her. Two dropped, but one was almost to her.

The glint of light over the small knife in his hand ramped up the stakes. She threw her stunner at this face. He ducked aside at the last second, but it still caught the side of his temple.

She was on him a split second later. The bony point of her elbow connected nicely into the soft space under his ear, and as he crumbled to her left, she caught his descending head in her other hand and shoved him backwards hard. He stumbled back and away, hitting the ground, and his head, hard. Random stunner fire shot past her from somewhere back on the dance floor, taking down one of her opponents for her. However, the rest of the energy hits impacted against a nearby brick column shattering pieces of brick.

More dust was falling over her as she turned towards the last man coming at her. He was using her own technique of swinging his gun at her. She ducked down, one knee falling onto an unconscious security man and she punched up hard into the groin of the man attacking her. She heard his breath groan out from him, but he was still fighting. He twisted, trying to trap her under him as he fell forward to protect his tender balls. Unfortunately, he was pressing the stunner's trigger and at this close range it would probably hurt to be hit so close, even with the Elite tech. She went down the floor with him, grabbing at his arm, directing his fire up and away.

In an expanded moment, she watched the energy discharge hit the vaulted ceiling above them, and suddenly the source of the dust was all too apparent.

It was brick dust, falling from the ceiling...

She watched in a horrified moment as the energy lightshow showed the crumbling, cracking ceiling above her. The ceiling that was supporting the level above, including the mezzanine level.

The man against her was groaned and pushing at her still.

A swift elbow to his ribs and another punch to his cheek quietened him as she struggled out of the tangle of limbs to get up from the floor.

Her eyes locked on the ceiling, she watched the cracks spreading. Looking down and around, she saw that several more brick columns were crumbling. Her earlier assessment of this old building had turned out to be far too accurate.

They had to get out of here.

She ran for the open space of the dance floor again.

Madesh was in the centre of it, exchanging blows with an overly large man who was putting up good fight. Beyond Madesh, one Division man was up on the stage wrestling with the barely dressed female singer who was trying to put him in a headlock as she screamed obscenities at him, and the other last Division man was fending off one of the drummers.

"We need to get out of here," Seeal shouted to them as she could as she arrived in the open and mostly empty dance floor. There was still some shouting and screaming though...from above.

She turned to look up at the mezzanine level. There was no movement up there, but she could now see that there was an open doorway off the balcony up there, and through it she could see the dancing colour of some stunner fire across a corridor wall. Which meant that Oneakka was no doubt up there.

She looked back to Madesh and the others. "The building is unstable!" She saw Madesh hear her and look round worriedly, which almost lost him his fight, as a meaty punch skimmed his cheekbone.

Seeal trusted him to sort that out, so she turned back to the mezzanine level above. Where was Oneakka? Didn't he have Douro?

She needed to get up there. Only there wasn't an obvious way up to that balcony from the dance floor. Well, she's just have to find a way.

She ran towards one end of the balcony above, leapt up and got a good grip on a piece of decorative moulding halfway up the wall. A decent foothold on another piece was all she needed to fling herself up further, getting both her hands up on the edge of the mezzanine's balustrade above her.

"Elite are not worth this," she groaned as she pulled herself up by sheer upper body strength, up and over onto the mezzanine level. "Wraith shitting Iketani," she tumbled down among stunned people and fallen chairs.

She saw immediately why Oneakka had come up here – Douro wasn't where he had fallen earlier, apparently stunned. Great.

Shouts through the doorway off the balcony led her towards the way out. She ran for the corridor beyond it bouncing off one wall in her hurry.

The sound of stunner fire continued somewhere ahead of her, and the corridor abruptly ended outside. She pulled up quick in the dusky sunset on Rimba. She was on the balcony encircling the outside of the club. She noticed immediately that there were hands on the far edge of the balustrade. She stepped closer and peered over and down to see that there were several people hanging off the side, metres from the ground below.

She understood what had happened. Oneakka had arrived and the only place to go to get away from him, and whoever he was battling, was to get over the balcony's edge.

"Better drop," she shouted to them.

It was probably fear and surprise that made them do as she ordered. She watched them drop to the sandy ground below. Beyond them, the mass of clubbers were still running from the building. A glance further along the balcony, revealed more dropping from the balcony onto the sand. See what Oneakka did to people.

Oneakka. She hurried along the balcony, stepping over two stunned bodies to the first corner. She moved round the corner quickly and carefully to a clear view down the entire side of the building. Oneakka was ahead of her, about halfway down the length of the building. He was stunning with one hand and following through with a swinging punch with his other hand. People were trying to get out of his way whilst simultaneously trying to stop him. Stunner fire danced over his pale body, the armour almost glowing with it. She ran after him, only to feel a sudden rumble of a shudder under her boots. She stopped and looked down worriedly at the bricks under her feet.

That didn't feel good. She could have sworn she felt a shift.

She grabbed for the closest stunned man and hauled him up over the balcony's edge to drop him to the sandy rise below. She repeated the same for the next and the next. Tidying up in Oneakka's wake.

"The building's unstable!" She shouted towards Oneakka. "The archways were coming down below." She triggered the tiny Elite link set on her collar, recalling that she was wearing it, and she repeated the warning for those downstairs. "Madesh, get out."

Two clubbers were huddled against the wall ahead of her, both looking up at her with terror in their eyes. "Jump!" She ordered pointing to the edge of the balcony. "NOW!"

They ran for it and threw themselves over the balcony wall without even looking at what was below.

She didn't think she was that scary.

"Oneakka!" She shouted. "The building!"

"I heard you," he shouted back without pausing in his fighting. A knife was out, unsheathed from his back now and she saw blood splatter across the wall to his right. They had stopped trying to stop him with stunner fire. She ran faster, though almost certain that he could look after himself.

This time she felt a definite shift in the floor under her boots, but she had almost caught up with Oneakka and he was at the far end of the building's balcony.

She saw another flash of light on a blade, saw Oneakka duck, grab the offending man and then the Elite warrior stepped forward and threw the man off the far end of the building on one rushing fast movement.

Seeal rushed up behind him as Oneakka turned round the back of the building. She ran to the end of the balcony and looked out to see what had befallen the man throw so hard and fast from such a height. Except she had forgotten this side of the building stood up against the riverbank. She arrived in time to see the thrown security man be engulfed by a massive splash of water as he disappeared into the river.

She turned away, snatched up a gun that was by her foot, and quickly followed Oneakka.

She arrived to the final scene of the raid. There was only one security man left and he looked terrified for his life. Behind him, Douro was cowering into the bottom corner of the balcony. One of his arms and one side of his face were slack, telling of a partial stunning earlier.

Oneakka stalked towards the remaining guard that stood in his way.

The young man held up his single weapon – a small knife – and was visibly shaking.

"Douro of Rimba," Oneakka intoned, ignoring the guard. "You are under arrest by order of Alliance Enforcement and the full weight of the Elite."

The security man glanced down and round at his former boss and then back to Oneakka, wild panic in his eyes. His eyes flickered to Seeal behind Oneakka.

She pointed to the river beyond the edge of the balcony and gestured with her head, suggesting his best option.

The man considered it for a second, whimpered and then ran for the balcony edge. He scrambled up on the balustrade and threw himself off down into the water below with another loud falling whimper.

Left with only Douro now, Oneakka slid away his knife and stood over his prey. "You and I are going to have talk, Douro," he intoned. The floor seemed to shift under Seeal's boots again.

"A close and personal talk, about Iketani," Oneakka continued and Douro's face slackened and paled further.

"Um," Seeal interrupted. "I don't want to hurry you with your big dramatic moment, but-"

This time the building definitely moved. Seeal looked back round down the length of the encircling balcony and watched in shock as a hole started to appear in the floor, bricks and balcony disappearing down into it. A clattering, collapsing, kind of sound was echoing from below them and the floor shifted again.

She looked back round to Oneakka, who was looking at her with what looked like accusation.

"I didn't shot the columns out, they did!" She objected loudly over the rising crashing sound of the building collapsing from the inside out.

There was only one thing to do now.

Moving alongside Oneakka, they followed the recent path of the last remaining defender of Douro and his corrupted club. She got one boot up on the balcony's balustrade and threw herself out and off the building's edge.

She fell in a nice, worryingly slow arch down towards the waiting, likely cold water, of Rimba's river. She heard Douro's scream to her right as he fell ahead of her and Oneakka.

She hit the water a second later, the freezing temperature rushing up over her, stealing her breath and forcing water up her nose as she dropped down into the suffocating embrace of the river.

She kicked and swung her hands round quickly, twisting and pushing her body back up towards the water's surface in the fast desperate need for oxygen. She burst up into the warmer air of Rimba's sunset, spitting and sneezing out water in what had to be a very attractive splutter and retch. It tasted awful!

"Raven?" Oneakka's voice called to her.

"I'm okay," she replied as she plastered her hair back off her face that had somehow gotten free during her dunking.

She heard loud spluttering and complaining to her left. She swung herself round in the water to see Oneakka moving through the water, one pale hand holding the struggling Douro by his collar. The guy probably couldn't swim all that well with half his upper body still stunned.

"Honoured Elite!" Madesh's worried voice called out from the bank and Seeal turned round to see that Madesh and the Division men were stood on the river's edge. She kicked off in their direction on the shored up riverbank.

A few good strokes of her arms and she was first at the water's edge, only it was a good metre up to the ground above.

Oneakka reached her side, shoving Douro up towards Madesh and the Division men. The three men hauled Douro up onto dry land again amidst complaints and professions of innocence. Everyone ignored him.

Douro out the way, Madesh reached down to help her up next. She grasped his offered hand in hers, and tried to get a decent purchase on the wet walls of the river bank with her boots. It wasn't working and she kept slipping. Her arms were tired from her long day of fighting and her recent clamber up through the club, and her muscles were exhausted.

Only the problem was abruptly solved by a hand gripping the back of her waistband and she was suddenly being assisted further up towards Madesh by Oneakka beside her in the water. Feeling a little annoyed at needing the help, she tried to help herself by grabbing at the top of the edge of the bank, but began slipping again.

Oneakka's support arrived again, but this time by way of his hand pressed against her backside. His push was less than dignified and clearly far too forceful, as it sent her up and over the edge of the bank's edge in a rush, that almost knocked over Madesh and resulted in her arriving back on land slumped face first in the dirt.

She turned over quickly, recovering hurriedly, to glare accusingly at Oneakka as he annoyingly pulled himself up out of the water easily, Madesh's attempts to help him unnecessary and too late.

She was almost certain she had seen an amused smile cross Oneakka's face as he stood up, but he simply focused on brushing himself down as if he were removing a few specs of dirt from his armour not half the river's contents. Water drained out from his moulded armour and holsters, but he didn't seem to care as he stepped forward.

Seeal struggled up, only slightly slipping on the wet ground as she did so. Pushing wet, sticking hair from her face, she righted her clothing as she stood upright. Back in control.

Oneakka was already striding away, the Division men dragging the crying Douro between them, as they followed close behind him.

Seeal sighed, hating Oneakka in that moment. How did he always look so in control, so powerful through all that?

She glanced at Madesh next to her so see that he too was watching Oneakka, though with obvious admiration and open hero worship.

She rolled her eyes and shook out her wet sleeves she quickly followed, moving around the massive mountain of destroyed club building and people standing around with wide shocked eyes. While Oneakka simply strode through them all as if nothing was out of place, as if nothing unusual or surprising had just happened.

Perhaps this was all in a day's work for the Elite.

As Seeal followed, her boots squelching with water and the eager Madesh hurrying ahead of her, she realised she hadn't had this much fun in a very, very long time.

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TBC


	6. Lingering Time

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**Chapter 6 – Lingering Time  
**

The weather over Tjaru had improved little over yesterday's long crying skies. The sun did occasionally break through the cloud cover, casting long bright shafts of sunlight through the grey day. A light rain had fallen early this morning when Teyla had dressed to attend her early sparring session with Vako. The drizzle had fallen constantly through the open space in the Training Courtyard as they had sparred, wetting everything down due more to persistence than weight.

She had enjoyed her session with Vako, desperately grateful for the opportunity of distraction through physical exertion. It was something that she missed away from the Sythus. She could always count on Si or Oneakka to be an opponent who held nothing back, who stepped over the line of cautiously pulling their punches, kicks and thrusts into the closest to true combat possible with a colleague. It was not quite as safe to spar that way with Vako, but it was as close as was possible outside the Elite. That fact spoke volumes as to Vako's skill. Yet again this morning she mentioned that he would be welcome to train among Elite ranks. He had laughed the comment aside, citing his age as too advanced. In truth she knew that his brilliance in the fighting skill of Bantos was borne from his determined attendance to mastery. He was a man of peace in his heart.

Regardless, she had still greatly valued his sparring this morning.

It had been something to focus on after having barely slept all night. For too many hours had she lain in her large empty bed as her mind had endlessly practised her explanation to John.

In the early hours of the morning, the sun just arriving through her curtains, she had come to the ugly conclusion that, as convinced as she was to put duty before her feelings for John, this confrontation was never going to go well. Her stomach had been unsettled since.

Yet, she was an Elite, and therefore determination and courage were as familiar to her as the call to duty.

A duty that she now had to put first.

Once she had finished her sparring session with Vako she had retreated to her quarters, the nausea in her belly turning her away from the interest in both first meal and the midday meal. Father had appeared an hour or so ago, taking a few minutes out of his very busy schedule to personally bring her a bowl of food. Someone had clearly been keeping track of the fact that she had not eaten today. She suspected that either Zabetha or Charin were behind it, most likely having their 'informants' in the complex's kitchen.

Father had behaved as if there was nothing unusual to his visit, saying only that he had a spare bowl of food and thought she may wish it. She had appreciated his need to pretend for her – for her pride. However, he had not been able to conceal the sympathy and concern in his eyes.

In some ways, she had been surprised at his continued agreement in moving forward with the Political Marriage. A part of her had thought he would have tried to talk her out of it. He had been cautious and unsure at first, but those concerns appeared to have been allayed by her determined insistence.

He trusted that she meant what she said.

And she did mean it – she was going to get married tomorrow.

Her stomach turned at the thought and she looked away from the bowl of food which remained untouched on the windowsill before her.

She had been stood here at her window since Father had left. The view of Tjaru normally soothed her, in whatever weather fell upon the Athosian landscape. Today however, the calm was not coming. She had watched the clouds slowly sliding overhead through the glass, had watched the glittering of The Gateway as an occasional shaft of sunlight passed over its rain wet height. Today the view seemed only gloomy and it perfectly reflected the sullen curdling emotions in her middle.

The waiting felt depressing and agonising.

She had spent many hours over her lifetime waiting, most often in the pause before a battle, but this waiting was unlike anything before.

But it would be over soon.

All things passed. Eventually.

Abruptly the communications screen bleeped, reporting a link coming in. The sound had cut through the silence like a knife through flesh and her heart had reacted dramatically.

It was not a call that John had arrived – it was too soon still for that – yet she had reacted like it was that call.

Working to calm her anxious nervous system, she finally turned away from the view of Tjaru and walked the length of the room to the screen set into the wall.

The call was from Halling and she triggered the link alive.

At least it was a distraction to draw her away from her silent long vigil.

"Greetings, Teyla," Halling stated as soon as he appeared on the screen, his smile wide and warm.

"Greetings, Halling," she replied. She was pleased to speak with him, but it felt a strain to force herself to smile in return.

"I do not have long this morning," he began, "there have been developments here."

"With the High Council?" She asked, eagerly latching onto the distraction.

"Yes. They held an emergency meeting yesterday eve and appropriately forwarded Esna Toshka's complaint to the Military Council."

"That is good," Teyla replied, honestly pleased. It would have been foolish for the High Council to try to counter their own laws by trying to deal with what was not their domain.

"Indeed. The Military Council have ordered Toshka's computer core decoded immediately. A number of the Military Council are currently here on the ship, personally overseeing the decoding."

That surprised Teyla somewhat. "How is it going?"

"The code is extremely complex, we have six technicians working on it, and Edfu is here from the Training Facility with one of his own top decoders."

Edfu was one of two Elite Security Leads who worked out of the Elite's Training Facility, overseeing all of the Elite's electronic and physical security across the Alliance. He was exceptional at his work.

"And how are things proceeding?" She asked again, aware that Halling had not directly answered her previous question.

"Not very well so far," Halling admitted with a sigh. "Though Oneakka was able to remove the computer core from Toshka's wall with a minimum of fuss." Teyla was not so sure removing something as large as a computer core out of a wall could be considered "minimal fuss", but she held back from making the point. "Just removing the sealed outer casing has been difficult, as it has several explosive devices within it set to detonate. They are struggling to deactivate all of them."

Teyla pursed her lips. Why would anyone wish to booby trap a computer core if there was not something to hide inside it?

"They have at least gotten around the initial boot up blocking code, but I am afraid that is where my understanding stops. It appears that Toshka wrote his own machine code into the computer, twisting the very basic standards of computer coding. It is like finding an entirely new language and no having no clues as to any of its meaning." Teyla could tell more from his frown than his words - Toshka's core was presenting quite a problem for the technicians.

"Where is Toshka?" Teyla asked, wondering if the man would have attempted to flee from Alliance space.

"He is gathering his supporters around him, crying out stories of Military corruption and that we, the Elite, are using him as a scapegoat following Karthig's revelation two days ago."

Karthig, one of the Sythus' own crew, had turned out to be a highly placed spy and who, upon his discovery, had threatened to destroy the Sythus. His plan had been thwarted, but the legacy remained; another traitor had been found in their midst.

"News of Karthig has become public?" She asked.

"It seems it reached the High Council quickly enough and Toshka has many friends there."

Teyla sighed. "He is being watched closely though?"

"Of course," Halling replied. "The Military Council have asked for his attendance in a hearing, described as an investigation into Oneakka's actions, but in truth it will allow us to present the core's data."

"As long as it implicates him and not others," Teyla considered.

"Toshka and his followers are calling for a limitation of Elite powers," Halling added.

"Are they?"

"It is not surprising. We know that many have seen our increased involvement with security on Alliance worlds as a threat."

"We knew some would fight against it," she considered. "Has Edfu heard back from those initially sent for the first work alongside planet securities?"

"He reports it is going well and the Elite sent have been very well received. In fact, their presence has caused something of a stir with many worlds, especially Rosenthal, putting on displays of military performance and sporting competitions for the visiting Elite."

"Any excuse for Rosenthal to show off," she smiled faintly.

"Indeed. The hope is that Toshka's computer core will be accessed, even if only partially, today or tomorrow, but I suspect it may be far longer judging by the level of tension and muttering among the technicians."

"I imagine having Military Councillors stood watching over their shoulders does not help," she considered.

"And Oneakka."

"I would have thought he would still be out rounding up the fifteen you mentioned yesterday."

"Fourteen have been arrested, two captured outside our borders, and unfortunately one has entirely vanished. Mostly like having successfully fled."

"It is fortunate to have captured so many."

"We are leaving it to Division to interrogate them," Halling reported. "It is best that way."

"Oneakka agreed to that?"

"I believe he had his own 'discussions' with the five he personally captured before he officially handed them over to Division," Halling smiled. "He seemed pleased with what he discovered and now seems very focused on the computer core's decoding."

Teyla nodded. She was missing quite dramatic events back on the Sythus.

"How do things progress on Athos?" Halling asked.

"Well enough," she replied simply.

Halling nodded.

She wondered if his question had been searching for information about John.

"I should return to overseeing the work on the core," Halling added, glancing aside. "Nalla is there, but with Ronon and Oneakka in the same room, I suspect the level of impatience is growing."

"Ronon struggles enough with being away from the Ballista, but being forced into rotation to work on the Military Council will not have pleased him further."

"I also suspect that his lack of sleep from his son's crying has not helped either."

Teyla smiled. "Wish him greetings from me, and my hope that I will see him tomorrow."

"I shall," Halling replied. "I hope your day goes well, Teyla."

She nodded, and she thought she saw a very similar expression around his eyes as she had seen on Father. "Good day to you, Halling," she replied with confidence, forcing that strained smile again.

She cut the link and the screen obediently displayed her electronic messages. She had been ignoring the gentle tones reporting their arrivals all morning. However, dealing with them now would be another distraction and a way to lose some time.

She triggered up the list. She saw instantly that the uppermost message displayed the official seal of the Genii. She triggered open the message to find that it was a greeting from General Maloo – her likely future husband as of tomorrow.

It was very formally worded, thanking her ahead of time for considering his offering tomorrow and sending her greetings from the Genii's supreme leader, Cowen.

She had forgotten to ask Halling if he had learnt anything further about Maloo, but perhaps he had not had time what with the Toshka and Council events gathering momentum. Or perhaps there was nothing to report on the matter.

She had already personally done an extensive background search into Maloo via the Elite's network. He, as with all Genii, had joined the planet's military in his youth. He had fought in many significant battles against the Wraith and had been a leading figure in the strengthening of the Genii's Confederation. He had worked in the Alliance's Military Fleet, commanding the Genii's flagship for several years, before being recalled to sit on the Genii Government as one of its many military advisers. He held his own large estate on the Genii homeworld, both under the planet's surface among the densely populated underground cities, and a large building on the surface in the First City. He invested considerably in the local community, and applied his skills in fighting to assisting in the training of new young recruits and in overseeing battalion drills.

He was a perfect example of Genii military success and honour.

There had been nothing concerning. She had even called up the specific details of the Fleet's engagements during his tours to study how Maloo had won his victories, hoping to gain some insight into the man's mind through studying his strategies. All his actions had been direct and decisive, which was again profoundly Genii.

Nothing seemed out of place in all her checks. He was almost a picture perfect representative of his people. Just as was expected for a Political Marriage candidate.

A gentle knock at Teyla's quarters' door drew her attention away from the message from her future husband. From the sound of the knock and that she had not used the bell, Teyla knew it was Zabetha.

"Come in, Zabetha," Teyla called to her sister as she padded quickly back across the room to pick up the forgotten bowl of food Father had brought her earlier. Zabetha no doubt would know about it and might even be here to check on the food's progress.

The door opened slowly and gently, everything her sister did being gentle and polite. "Greetings, Teyla," Zabetha began as she entered, the reference perhaps to the fact that Teyla had not socialised with any of the family so far today.

Ketra let out a happy bubbling sound as she sleepily rose from the rug to greet Zabetha.

"Do not get up, my friend," Zabetha smiled down to Ketra as she closed Teyla's door and crossed to meet Ketra in the middle of the room. Ketra's skin shifted to the bright silver colour of happiness as Zabetha stroked over Ketra's head and softly around her ears.

Teyla smiled as she made herself eat a spoonful of the cold food.

"Are you well, Teyla?" Zabetha asked looking up from Ketra.

"Well enough," Teyla replied honestly as she crossed back to the display of Maloo's message. "I have received a message from General Maloo," Teyla informed her.

"It is to be expected," Zabetha replied with a smile in her voice. Teyla glanced round to see her sister settling down on the rug with Ketra. Ketra nestled her head on Zabetha's lap and closed her eyes. "I imagine that he mentioned Cowen?"

"Yes, he did," Teyla confirmed.

"He is making it clear that he has the official agreement of his people behind his offer," Zabetha replied.

Teyla turned and sighed around another mouthful of unwanted food. "Am I expected to send some official reply?"

"It would be polite," Zabetha replied up at her. "But is not required. Some prefer not to communicate with those making offerings until the Offering Ceremony itself."

"Which clearly you did not do with Rhakshar," Teyla commented, glad to turn the focus away from herself.

Zabetha smiled as she glanced down at Ketra. She had been cautious around Ketra initially, but now seemed overly caring for the dragon. Teyla wondered if it was a way for her to express the love she wished to give to a child of her own, but was unable to ever have. Not that there were not plenty of orphaned or unwanted children out among the stars whom Zabetha and Rhakshar could bring up as their own, but for the moment Zabetha was focused on her work, and clearly enjoying her own new husband's company.

It was known in the complex that though tradition required a politically married couple to have adjoining rooms, Zabetha and Rhakshar had only shared one bedroom and they used the adjoining quarters as a living space.

"You could take the opportunity to communicate with Maloo to learn more about him," Zabetha suggested.

"I know enough about him," Teyla replied as she tried another mouthful of food. She deactivated the screen and moved across to sit down on the end of the sofa closest to where Zabetha sat with Ketra.

"You know him as a General," Zabetha responded looking up at her. "Through his reports, his career, and his military skills. Why not try to get to know the man behind that?"

"I will have plenty of time to get to know him," Teyla replied. She set the bowl of food aside. "That is if he will be the final offer."

"The Genii are very determined, which is something you two will have in common."

Teyla sat back on the sofa and turned her gaze up to the ceiling above her.

"From what I have heard, Genii can make enthusiastic lovers," Zabetha added.

Teyla frowned down from the ceiling to glare at her sister. "Where have you heard that?"

"I have friends," Zabetha replied with a smile. "They tell me of their exploits off world."

"Really?" Teyla asked.

Zabetha glanced down and then back to Teyla from under her brow. "None have had a lover from another galaxy though."

"There are many in Atlantis, perhaps they can find one there," Teyla replied with narrowed eyes.

Zabetha grinned. "I assume they are as human throughout as they appear? Everything is in the same place?"

Teyla opened her mouth in surprise at her usually very polite and discreet sister.

Zabetha grinned back at her.

"I think being a married woman has had some negative effects on you," Teyla teased her sister.

Zabetha chuckled lightly as she continued to stroke Ketra's back, the dragon appearing fast asleep once again. "I very much enjoy being a married woman."

"I can see that you do," Teyla said pointedly, amused at the flush to Zabetha's face.

"I had not imagined a day when you would marry," Zabetha added, the amusement gone, but the open honesty still in place.

Teyla glanced away as she nodded. "Neither did I, but this is a way to assist Athos, the Alliance, and the Elite."

"But will it bring you happiness, Teyla?" Zabetha asked softly.

Teyla looked round, her eyes stopping briefly on the blossom plant in the corner of her room. She focused on Zabetha instead. "Helping Athos makes me happy."

Zabetha nodded almost sadly. "Is there not a place for Major Sheppard in your life?"

"Not anymore," Teyla replied honestly. "It is best for us both that it is that way."

"Why?" The simple question seemed naively sad, but also profoundly significant in its directness.

Teyla glanced away towards the window, though she was unable to see the view of Tjaru from this angle. She could only see the grey clouds above it.

She considered her sister's simple question and how to answer it honestly – for Zabetha, but also to herself.

"Because he is dangerous," she found herself saying softly.

"To Athos?" Zabetha asked, clearly surprised at Teyla's answer.

"No," Teyla replied quietly as she shook her head, watching a soft drizzle of rain begin to fall against the window outside. "Because he distracts me."

"Is not a little distraction enjoyable and healthy?"

"Not when you are an Elite," Teyla replied immediately. "Not when others' lives hang in the balance of your actions. Not when you make the wrong choice and someone dies."

Zabetha had no answer to that.

It felt good to speak out loud to her sister what had been plaguing her alone. Zabetha's silence, her lack of any strong argument, gave credence to Teyla's own thoughts on the matter. She wished that confirmation did not make her feel quite so sad.

Silence fell over the room, except for Ketra's snoring.

Zabetha let out an amused breath eventually. "She makes so much noise while she sleeps; does she not keep you awake some nights?"

Teyla looked down at Ketra with as close to a smile as she could honestly find. John had snored slightly sometimes.

"I am used to it," she said as she watched Ketra peacefully sleeping, her cheek and neck curled up against Zabetha.

"Rhakshar sometimes snores," Zabetha reported. "However, I find a nudge to his middle usually is enough to encourage him to turn over."

Teyla smiled. "You would be amazed what a good nudge with an elbow can achieve in many circumstances."

Zabetha grinned, but truthfully she could not know how true that statement was.

Not for the first time did Teyla find herself comparing her and her sister's lives, and how she might have grown up more like her polite and gentle sister if she had not joined the Elite. Would she be as elegant in stance and as kind of heart as Zabetha?

She found it hard to think of herself as anything other than a warrior.

At times, especially with regard to the current political arrangements, she wished she had Father and Zabetha's gift with words. To say the right thing in such a way as to convince, disarm, and negotiate. They always seemed to know what to say.

Today, more than on any other day in her life, did Teyla wish she had that same skill.

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TBC


	7. Expectation and Frustration

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**Chapter 7 – Expectation and Frustration**

The room was tense. Everyone crowded in the room seemed tense.

Esna Toshka's computer core sat on a narrow table, its outer covering and booby traps stripped away to reveal the inner block of processors and memory storage inside. An array of wires and cables were plugged into various parts of the block, all leading to the many computer tablets and technicians sat around the table on which the core sat like a display item.

All the technicians, specialists in the field of analysing computer code, were hunched over their connected computer interfaces with determined frustration. Several of the technicians had two tablets running at the same time. The floor around them was littered with cabling, additional computer components, and pieces of the core's casing.

On the inside of the outer casing they had found some scribbled markings that might be instructions or reminders to those who might have worked on the core. The language appeared to be a strange random mix of symbols, possibly reflecting the unknown code Toshka had used for his unique computer. The problem was that none of it seemed to make any sense to the technicians, and their obvious frustration on the lack of any development was obvious in their tense hunched silence.

Stood to the left of the huddled mess of frustrated scientists was a line of watching Military Councillors. Oneakka knew most of them, had fought alongside a couple of them, and he understood the bored impatience expressed across their faces and body language. They had to be here to watch the decoding, but they weren't people used to being useless.

Oneakka felt useless as well, just stood watching. He was good with pieces of engineered tech, but his knowledge of coding was limited, and Toshka's coding was the work of some twisted genius, if Edfu's opinion was correct.

Oneakka glanced over at Edfu, one of the Elite Training Facility's two Security Leads. His fellow Lead was back in the facility, Maja, watching over their normal duties and no doubt as busy as usual. Edfu and Maja had demanding roles, and though not Elite themselves, they were as highly respected as any Elite in the Facility. It was unusual for one of them to be on a ship, but the situation apparently demanded it.

Edfu's presence didn't appear to be speeding along the decoding process however.

To Oneakka's left, Ronon huffed out a sigh of boredom. He had been pacing a lot, which had seemed to agitate everyone further. However, Nalla had said something quietly to the Satedan and Ronon had taken a seat since, perched on the corner of a table near Oneakka.

Everyone still looked tense.

It was an unusual situation really, because Oneakka was used to be being the one causing the tension, not watching it happen around him and being unable to do anything.

Actually, that was not true. He had suggested, several times, that they use Seeal. Clearly her skills would be useful in this situation, but everyone else thought it would be a bad idea.

He wondered how long it would take until they gave in to the suggestion, because no one appeared even close to breaking Toshka's code.

Ronon sighed heavily again and Oneakka shifted his eyes towards his friend.

Ronon looked up from under his brow and huffed theatrically. Satedan warriors were not known for their patience.

Oneakka thought having a newborn young would have maybe instilled some patience in Ronon, but clearly not. Unless he was in truth eager to return to his young – apparently the babe still had a cough.

"How long is this going to take then?" Ronon asked, for the eighth time by Oneakka's reckoning.

Further across the room, Halling was talking with the two other Councillors, Nalla having taken another away for some food. Oneakka wondered if he was supposed to distract or entertain Ronon.

"As long as it takes," Oneakka could only answer.

"Why don't we just blast it open?" Ronon asked.

"It's already open," Seifer answered this time from behind Oneakka's left shoulder. "They are breaking into electronic code to get to the data."

"Then they need to do it faster," Ronon complained.

Oneakka didn't bother to reply to that. Halling had given him a lecture earlier about "keeping his cool" with the Councillors. It was a phrase that Teyla had been using recently and apparently now Halling, but Oneakka understood its meaning, and that the honour of the Elite was apparently at stake with the High Council. Protocol had to be followed. If they didn't have the majority of their targets in Division hands already, Oneakka wouldn't be as calm has he currently felt.

The five criminals he had captured yesterday had all confirmed to him Toshka's involvement in underhand dealings, so what Oneakka needed had to be in that computer core. That belief was only further confirmed in his mind by the explosives that had been set inside the computer's casing. Toshka had been prepared to have his entire database destroyed rather than have it fall into enemy hands. Well, it was in Oneakka's hands now and clearly Toshka was shitting himself about it.

Only, Toshka's way of dealing with this situation was using the Alliance legal system, which apparently only gave the Military Council and the Elite a certain number of hours to present their evidence or the computer core would have to be returned.

Which was stupid.

If that happened, then Oneakka would take matters into his own hands – regardless as to the consequences. Toshka would not be allowed to get away with criminal activity and Oneakka would have his confirmation of the man's involvement with The Traitor.

Three of the captives he had spoken to had known about The Traitor, by her reputation rather than sight, but that was enough for Oneakka.

Everything was coming together, and Dreamstation's database, coupled with this computer would probably provide everything he needed to finally clean up The Traitor's mess.

"Oneakka," Seifer said quietly. "We need to talk about the goat."

Oneakka frowned over his shoulder at his fellow Elite. "Now?"

"Nothing else is happening," Seifer pointed out accurately enough. "It escaped the Hydropondics Bay again."

Oneakka looked back towards the core, though noticed that Ronon had overheard Seifer and was taking an interest.

"It is not a prisoner," Oneakka replied, more to annoy Seifer.

One of the technicians swore loudly across the room, to then look up apologetically. Edfu moved to the woman's side to see what had happened. The woman gestured to the computer tablet on her lap, clearly unhappy and Edfu nodded and then shook his head.

Things were clearly not progressing.

They needed to use Seeal. It was obvious. This code had been designed by criminals, she had been one and knew their coding, so it was obvious to use her.

"It cannot get onto other levels unless people let it in the transporters with them," Seifer continued to complain over Oneakka's shoulder.

"It could be climbing up the emergency ladders," Oneakka suggested and saw Ronon smile up at him, amused.

"Oneakka, take this seriously," Seifer pushed. "I know it is some sort of new project of yours, but we are already cleaning up your last project right here."

Oneakka took acceptation to that point. "This will be vital intelligence about The Traitor and perhaps about who planted the spy Karthig on this ship."

"But the goat will not. What if it eats its way through some cabling?"

"Then it'll electrocute itself and you'll be happy," Oneakka responded.

"I know you made some valid points about using it in the Bay, but it should be contained."

Oneakka had constructed a basic living hut for the goat in which it could sleep sheltered away from the Hydroponics Bay's rain cycles. The goat had appeared pleased enough with the soft bedding Oneakka had placed inside the hut, but clearly the creature liked to wander around the ship as much as around the Bay.

The Bay gardeners had been about as thrilled as Seifer at the goat's placement. Oneakka had left them with strict orders on how to train the animal, chasing it away from foods they do not want it to eat and placing the grasses and weeds it was allowed to eat in its own bowl inside its hut so it would learn. He had even started a new compost heap for the goat's dung for them; Dung which would make excellent fertilizer in the Bay.

"Its wild cousins cover wide ranging territories on Belkan," Oneakka considered out loud. "It probably thinks the entire ship is its territory."

"You said it was part domestic goat, shouldn't they do what they're told?" Seifer muttered. "It stares, Oneakka. Right into your soul."

Oneakka glanced round at Seifer again.

"Elite afraid of farmyard animals," Ronon chuckled.

"I'm not afraid of it," Seifer protested.

"Honoured Elite," Edfu interrupted softly as he crossed the room towards them.

"Progress?" Oneakka asked, trying not to sound too eager or aggressive. Halling had pointed out that such behaviour wasn't best in front of the stressed technicians.

"Little, I am afraid," Edfu confessed. "We have broken through the first layer, but to be honest it was perhaps more luck than skill."

"Make them do it faster," Ronon ordered.

"I would Councillor," Edfu replied. "But it will just take time, even with the computers analysing it all with us. It is an entirely new computer language to learn with no known technical vocabulary to guide us."

"Toshka knows the vocabulary," Ronon stated. "I say we beat it out of him."

"That is probably not going to enamour the High Council," Seifer replied.

"I don't care what the High Council think, they're protecting his backside as it is."

"Not all of them," Seifer argued back.

"It could be," Edfu put in, "that Toshka hired someone else to create this coding language, that it's not his own work."

Oneakka noticed that the other Councillors were listening in now.

"We should use Seeal then," he recommended again.

"She may be very useful for this work," Edfu agreed readily, which surprised Oneakka. "I had hoped to meet her following her report on the carry wave codes she shared with us."

"We cannot use one criminal to incriminate another," one Councillor put in.

"If that were the case, Honoured Councillor," Halling put in, "there would be no use in having informants or spies at all."

The woman inclined her head in reluctant agreement.

"Seeal is currently working for us," Halling continued. "She has put that former lifestyle behind her."

"So you say," Ronon muttered. "She might be in on this."

Oneakka had assumed they would think that. A week ago he might have thought the same. The woman had her own agenda, but he had seen no evidence that she had any ties to Toshka. In fact, she had very nearly refused to stop trying to hack into Toshka's computer in the man's office, even while Toshka's security had been firing at them from the doorway.

Regardless as to her history, she had proven that she had exceptional skills with coding. What was the point of having her on the ship if not to use her skills to their advantage? Besides, Edfu would keep an eye on her, making sure she wasn't secretly taping into anything she shouldn't.

"We have this computer core because of the information that she supplied us," Oneakka reminded them.

"Which only makes it more suspicious," a Councillor replied.

Oneakka frowned at that stupid logic. "Toshka wants this back, we have limited hours, and Seeal is highly skilled."

"Highly skilled at defying law," the same Councillor retaliated.

"Councillor," Edfu replied first, "I have seen Seeal's work and it is good, as good as our best people."

"What is the point of having a weapon available and not using it?" Oneakka asked bluntly.

The logic of the military argument registered across the Councillor's faces.

"I'll get her," Oneakka stated before any of them replied. It was obvious that she was needed now, and even if she too couldn't decipher Toshka's code, then they would have tried everything at least in the time they had. Oneakka could then move onto his own plans for Toshka.

He moved swiftly through the Sythus' corridors, enjoying moving again, not being cramped up in one room for hours and achieving nothing.

No doubt Toshka was spending his time more fruitfully, probably consolidating his position with the High Council and other powerful leaders in the Alliance.

If the man thought such things would keep him safe from Oneakka then he was very much mistaken, but having the needed evidence would make life much easier. If that meant using Seeal, then why not.

She had proven herself enough now for him to use her for this without concern. She had managed to keep up on the raids yesterday, even managing to work alongside Division personnel, for whom she had an understandable distaste. He had kept a close eye on her at first, aware that she could turn on them and/or disappear at any moment, but she hadn't. She had instead fought alongside him, Madesh, and Division like she was used to being on the right side of the law.

In the second raid of the day, he had glimpsed her standing over a fallen Division man, defending him in the battle, and that she had even turned the man over to protect him from choking in his unconscious state. After that, Oneakka had stopped watching over her. And she had kept up, and helped out.

He felt oddly discomforted by that fact, and he wasn't sure why.

It was good that she was proving herself, and that his own instincts about the woman were being proven, yet...

He reached one of the lowest levels in the Sythus and began heading in the direction of the strange "quarters" that Seeal had selected. She hadn't wanted to share the barracks with anyone, not trusting people, and when Tyoosi had suggested that the only place left on the ship with enough room was one of the Hot Water Regulation Chambers, she had taken up the offer.

Clearly Tyoosi had been annoyed at that sign of defiance, but he had allowed her to stay in the warm chamber. The room was littered with pipes, all converging into a massive central pipe, which was monitored closely for temperature, pressure, purity, and radiation exposure. Seeal had set her single thin sleeping mat behind that central collection, strategically using it as protection between her sleeping place and the single hatchway into the chamber. From there she could identify anyone who entered through the gaps between the pipes, and be able to slip away into the myriad of piping unseen.

It was the kind of thinking a warrior had, and perhaps one that a woman in particular was very concerned about. Oneakka understood that woman had to especially protect herself in a strange place filled with strange men who considered her the enemy.

Oneakka did not think any of the Sythus' crew would be so dishonourable as to attempt to attack her, but he had still made it clear to Tyoosi that word was to be spread in the crew that Seeal was not to be approached.

He had no doubt that if anyone did attempt to attack her that they would probably not survive. If any did survive, then Oneakka himself would deal with them.

However, no such events had occurred and Seeal had so far been behaving herself. Oneakka was even considering including her in the ship rotation with Madesh, to see if she would behave herself when having to interact with the rest of the crew. Besides, she clearly needed to improve her stamina. She had looked exhausted by the end of the raids yesterday, though in fact everyone else had as well. Oneakka knew that Madesh had only just risen an hour ago, his reporting to Oneakka's side hurried and apologetic. Oneakka had found it amusing, but had hidden that fact from the young man. Madesh needed to prove himself on the Sythus, to be accepted, especially considering his gift.

The hatchway into Seeal's "quarters" was ahead, and Oneakka strode up to it and triggered open the door. He entered loudly, making sure his boots landed heavily on the floor and he hammered his fist on the inside of the frame.

"Seeal!" He called to her.

Sleepy noises of complaint rose up from beyond the large central pipes. He had woken her.

He hammered his fist against the frame again. "Wake up! No time to sleep," he ordered loudly, enjoying disturbing her.

He didn't move further into the chamber though, because he wasn't all that sure what she might wear to bed. If anything at all.

He suspected that she probably slept fully clothed, ready to make a run for it at any moment, but he didn't want to risk it.

A grumpy face appeared around the central pipes.

"What now?" She demanded, as usual uncaring about his Elite status. Any other crew member on the ship would have bolted awake, stood at sharp attention, and offered automatic words of appreciation for all the Elite did.

"Another raid?" She asked, as her head disappeared from view again. The scratch of what sounded like boots against the floor echoed around the pipes, as did the faint sound of fabric against bed mat.

"No. Toshka's computer," he informed her.

"They can't get into it, huh?" She asked, sounding faintly more awake.

She appeared around the pipes, upright and fully dressed, pushing one foot into a boot while simultaneously adjusting a dark jacket around her shoulders. He hadn't seen her wear this jacket before.

"They need an ex-criminal genius to break into it?" She asked smugly.

It was her latest technique at pushing him – to boast about her having saved the Sythus the other day. He suspected that she was not egotistical, but that it was a way to remind him of her value and to just plain annoy him.

"You know where I can find one?" He retaliated as she approached where he stood in the doorway.

She pulled a face up at him, clearly still sleepy, but he had learnt that she didn't need to be all that awake to get her mouth working. He suspected she could come up with a smart remark even in her sleep.

She wore a pair of tight black trousers and a very dark blue top under the short thin jacket. He considered that she had probably gone through most of her single bag of clothes during the messy missions yesterday.

He assumed someone had shown her where to take her clothes to get them cleaned.

She stopped in front of him. "It's going to very difficult to solve your computer problem if you don't let me leave the room."

He realised he was blocking her way out of the chamber. He held his position, as if he had intended to do just that.

"There will be councillors from the Alliance Military Council in there. You are not to insult them. They have the power to take away all the freedoms that we've given you here," he told her straight.

Her dark eyes held his and he saw her bite the inside of her lower lip. She had started doing that over the last couple of days, and it was probably because she was holding in some smart, sarcastic comment. That she didn't say whatever she was thinking was actually progress.

"Fine," she agreed with only the slightest of sighs.

"You are not to-" he began.

"I know," she interrupted. "I'm not to kill anyone and I'm not to break into your ship's computer again. Do we have to do this every day?"

The warning lecture had fast become an almost hourly mantra, which he was keeping up mostly to annoy her and to amuse himself.

"Yes," he told her. "Until it becomes second nature for you to behave yourself."

"When do you think that will kick in for you?" She asked.

He narrowed his eyes down at her, still blocking her way out of the chamber.

That annoying sensation of discomfort passed through him again as he held her stare. She had a way of getting to him, annoying him beyond tolerance far too easily, but he had become aware that mixed in with that annoyance was a sense of enjoyment too.

Her mind was very quick and in their exchange of arguments he had found a new form of combat. One that he wasn't all that sure he was winning, and that concerned him. It made him tense in a new way that he couldn't really describe. She both irritated him to the point of anger, and yet, hadn't he been just a little too eager to get here? To see her this morning?

"Just behave yourself," he warned her, falling on the fact that she was not to be fully trusted. "Be respectful," he added before turning and leading the way out of the dry heat of her "quarters".

"Should I remind you of the same?" She asked from behind him.

"I know my limits," he responded, walking fast, wanting to keep ahead of her.

He wasn't sure when exactly he had stopped worrying about turning his back to her.

His instincts had told him from the start that there was honour in her, but that didn't excuse her behaviours, such as breaking into the Sythus' security systems, blackmailing station owners, and so on.

Not that those tendencies of hers hadn't turned out to be useful, but she needed to learn to behave or she wouldn't last among 'normal' non-criminal people. It was all very well her eventually attained a 'clean record' if she was just going to get into more trouble again afterwards.

He reached the level's transport chamber and stepped in quickly. As Seeal stepped in as well, she turned quickly to face the closing doors, showing him her back. It was a pointed move on her part.

She smelt of something flowery. Probably a deodorant she had just put on.

"They gotten into the computer core at all?" She asked as the transporter arrived a few floors up.

"The casing is off, explosives removed, and they are through the first layer of data," he replied as he moved forward quickly as soon as the doors began to open. Doing so forced her to hurry forward or be trodden on. She glared at him as she moved aside quickly in the corridor, leaving him the way forward. He strode on, leading the way towards the working lab that had been set up for Toshka's computer.

"The first layer is just turning the thing on," she commented from behind him, her voice slightly winded, suggesting she was hurrying to keep up with him.

Good.

They reached the lab's closed door a few moments later and he triggered it open.

However, Seeal slid quickly around his shoulder and stepped into the lab first, ahead of him.

He followed hurriedly, annoyed at her swift move.

Faces turned towards them as they entered. Seifer looked even more bored than he had earlier, as did Ronon. Seifer had probably been whining about the goat again.

Halling approached.

"Anything new?" Oneakka asked him.

Seeal headed straight for the group of technicians around the core to the far right. Oneakka noted that, but focused on Halling.

Except, Seeal abruptly pulled up short. Oneakka snapped his attention round to see that Ronon had blocked her way and was aggressively looming over her.

The Satedan's shoulders were up, his nostrils flaring with clear intimidation. His jaw clenched, he glared down only the few inches between his height and Seeal's.

"I don't trust her," Ronon stated through his teeth.

"And _you_ are?" Seeal asked with that bored dismissive tone Oneakka had not heard for a few days now.

Oneakka reached them in two strides, stepping up behind Seeal to face off directly opposite Ronon. He locked his eyes on his Satedan friend who was currently a very real and sudden threat.

"Seeal," Halling's voice drifted in from the left, calm and polite. "This is Military Councillor Ronon Dex of Sateda," Halling introduced. "He is one of the Council officially here to oversee the decoding of the computer."

Ronon had finally registered Oneakka's focus and the man's eyes lifted from Seeal to meet Oneakka's.

Oneakka held his gaze directly, his own strong determination flowing up through him. Ronon was being overly aggressive and Oneakka wasn't going to stand for it. He felt a new strong anger in his belly that had him holding his friend's equally angry gaze.

Oneakka had made a decision to bring Seeal in here and Ronon was defying that and not helping the situation.

And the Satedan wasn't backing down. His jaw was flexing at Oneakka's action.

"Ronon," Halling said calmly again, "Seeal has proven to have excellent coding skills."

"Hacking skills," Ronon corrected, his eyes still holding Oneakka's, but the aggression was fading. Something new was replacing it, a questioning consideration. Oneakka held his ground. This was his ship, his people, and his decisions.

"I read the reports," Ronon continued, his eyes suddenly breaking away to look down at Seeal. "You might have manipulated them with your 'good deeds'," Ronon said to her, "but I'm watching you, Dreamstation Lead."

"I'm not its Lead anymore, or is your intell so far behind?" Seeal responded.

Oneakka sensed Halling's disapproval without actually seeing it.

Ronon clenched his teeth again. If he thought using physical height and physical threat would work against Seeal, then he hadn't read her file. She had grown up among the giant Glisi who had hated her as a cursed, mutated weakling.

"Dex," she considered. "I've heard of you."

"Good," Ronon responded. Oneakka kept his eyes on the man, watching for any tiny hints that he might become violent towards Seeal.

"If I were you," Seeal told Ronon, not sounding in the least afraid of the massive Satedan. She should be though, Ronon was the best that Sateda had created, and all of their people were excellent fighters, albeit hot headed and somewhat unpredictable at times. "I'd look into what your mate's father's brother does in his spare time," Seeal continued. "Because it's certainly not spending time with his wife in Alliance territory."

Confusion pushed aside all of Ronon's former anger and doubt, and in that moment Seeal quickly moved around Ronon's shoulder. She walked calmly towards the table supporting the computer core and the staring technicians who had all been watching with horrid fascination.

They all immediately looked away as Oneakka glared in their direction.

He swiftly redirected his gaze back to Ronon. Ronon's confused frown remained, but he met Oneakka's eyes with questioning annoyance once more. Oneakka held it.

Ronon hated being challenged, as did most Satedans. The moment over now, he would step aside. But, he would watch Seeal very closely, which meant Oneakka would now need to watch him in turn.

Across the room, Oneakka was aware of Edfu stepping forward towards Seeal.

"Seeal? It is a pleasure to meet you," Edfu greeted her. "I am one of the Elite's Security Leads. I wanted to thank you for your report on the codes and carry waves."

The man's voice was soft, almost overtly cheerful. Oneakka slid his gaze momentarily away from Ronon to assess Edfu.

"Report?" Seeal asked, confused for a second. "I just wrote down my thoughts on the latest codes being used in and around Dreamstation, and some of the older ones." Her attention appeared to be directly on the computer core, not on Edfu, who had stepped up to her side.

"Yes, I noticed the relaxed style to your comments," Edfu replied with almost a laugh, his voice seemingly deeper. Oneakka frowned at the highly intelligent Security Lead.

"That's me," Seeal replied, glancing over her shoulder at Oneakka. "Relaxed, right at home here, behaving myself."

She looked away before Oneakka could come up with a response to that.

At least she had taken his instructions to heart. For now.

Ronon moved, drawing Oneakka's full attention back to him. The tension was out of the Satedan now, but his lips were pursed. As he stepped back, he glanced round at Seeal and Edfu and back to Oneakka.

"This is on your head," Ronon stated as he moved away finally.

As much as Oneakka respected Ronon, he wasn't going to be pushed around on his own ship. Ronon was younger by only a couple of years, but sometimes he could be impetuous if things didn't go the way he wanted.

"Perhaps you can help us with this enigma," Edfu was saying to Seeal as Oneakka returned his attention to them. "Use my pad, we have a basic interface established."

Seeal took the offered computer tablet and began tapping away on its interactive surface.

"As you can see," Edfu commented, moving closer to her side, almost touching her arm. Oneakka saw her notice the closeness, but hold her ground. "It is a tumbling code," Edfu told her almost eagerly. "It's changing at a frequency we have not seen enough yet to know how large the rotation will be. As you can see, the coding is in an entirely new language."

"It looks almost like something out of Ancestor code," Seeal muttered thoughtfully.

"I thought the same, but the computers haven't found any correlation," Edfu replied with a smile. "Have you seen anything like this tumbling spin?"

Oneakka frowned at Edfu, wondering if his tone was intended to soften Seeal after the confrontation with Ronon.

Or was it that the experienced Security Lead was focusing on more than Seeal's intelligence and required hacking skills?

Oneakka added Edfu to his list. Clearly he was going to have to watch over Seeal to make sure that everyone remained focused on the work at hand.

00000  
TBC


	8. To See Her Again

**Note:** As it is a particular someone's birthday today within the SGA/JT fan community (*cough Camy cough*), I am posting up two very significant chapters that I know she not only desperately wants to read, but has been waiting a long time to see. I shared this part of the story with her a long time ago (year and a half ago maybe?), and though it has been refined since, I took some very important advice from her regarding it. So, this if for you Camy. Thank you for your support, nudges to continue, and also for you having kept this part of the story arc a secret for me :) Love ya.

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**Chapter 8 – To See Her Again  
**

"Ahh, another lovely sunny trip to Athos," Woolsey exclaimed loudly with surprising pleasure. John glanced at the man who was adjusting his ever present tie, ensuring it was wrinkle-free and properly knotted at his throat as they waited for the Gate to activate.

John glanced around at the Gate Room, aware that the bright sunny day outside was shining in through the large coloured glass beyonnd the Gate and down over them from the tall windows overlooking the main staircase. John wondered if Woolsey thought that meant it would be just as sunny on Athos.

It didn't matter though, because John was feeling just as cheerful today. Finally they were going to Athos again. Finally he had a chance to see her again.

"Sure, whatever you say," he agreed with Woolsey, exchanging a look with Ford as they took their positions on either side of the politician.

"Should I have brought some sunscreen?" Lieutenant Cadman joked from the far side of Ford as the Gate began to activate. This would be her first visit to Athos, the visits so regular now, and so far mostly uneventful, that only two accompanied John and Woolsey to their twice weekly trips to visit with Torren.

Yeah, because seeing Torren was what was lifting John's spirit.

"Might be just as sunny there," he suggested to Cadman, amused at her apparent excitement at what would actually be a rather boring assignment for her.

"Sounds like it's going to be fun, Sir," she replied.

"It nearly always is," John told her and Ford laughed, thinking John was sarcastically referring to the boring guard duty the two would enjoy.

"You'll like Athos, Lieutenant," Woolsey said to Cadman. "It's a lovely planet and their people are very pleasant and welcoming."

"I look forward to it," she responded as from above them Colonel Carter nodded down to them. Woolsey moved away to exchange some words up to the Colonel, so John moved to Ford's aside.

"Just don't lift your hands above your waist, okay?" John told Cadman. "Athosians take that kind of gesture as a threat. So, hands down."

Cadman frowned at him. "I don't remember that mentioned in any of the reports I read."

"It's something we picked up, it really should go in the reports," John replied looking at Ford next to him with a conspiratorial glance.

"I'll make sure it's definitely in my next report," Ford added, playing along.

"Not above the waist?" Cadman checked.

"You got it," John replied, controlling his smile as he mimicked the correct level to hold her hands – elbows tucked right in and hands held out at hip height. Cadman frowned a little worriedly as Woolsey returned to them.

The wormhole exploded to life and snapped back with its usual rushing swishing sound, which made John's heart jump with excitement.

Would Teyla be there?

He hadn't seen her for a week, hadn't touched her for days.

She had haunted his dreams though.

"Let's go," Woolsey announced, striding forward, feeling confident in his repeated visits to Athos.

John, Cadman, and Ford followed. Just as John followed Woolsey into the event horizon, he saw Ford mimicking to Cadman again the appropriate height to hold her hands.

Smiling, John stepped through the horizon and was spat back out into the fresh air of Athos.

The very damp fresh air of Athos.

"Guess they didn't get your weather forecast," John told Woolsey through the drizzling rain.

John heard the ripple of the wormhole behind him as Cadman and Ford arrived. Ahead, on cue as always, Abas scurried out of the small guard station. The guard assign to them waved eagerly, the bad weather apparently not curbing his enthusiasm.

"Hey, Abas," John greeted the guy as he hurried up.

"My apologies for the weather today, the rain season is soon to start and these early light showers have been plaguing us these past days," Abas informed them.

"Don't worry about it," John reassured the guy. "Abas, this is Lieutenant Cadman, she's a new member of my team. Cadman this is Abas."

"I am honoured to meet you, Lieutenant," Abas replied excitedly. "It is always enjoyable to meet another member of Atlantis. I hope you will enjoy your first visit to Athos and Tjaru."

It occurred to John that there was a lot of activity along the long road up the hill towards Tjaru. Carts were rolling in both directions, but more moving up towards the city. There were fewer people than normal were on foot as well, though probably because of the weather.

"Busy day," John asked Abas as they moved away from the Gate, allowing the long waiting line of carts to use the Gate. As he and Abas led the others towards the road, John noticed two guards fall into step behind them, as was usual. John was almost certain he recognised their faces now, and it was clear from their relaxed, yet still alert, postures that they didn't see their duty watching John and his people as anything stressful.

"Um," Abas was uttering to John's question. "Yes, yes. There is to be a large festival, well festivities," he corrected.

"Another big Athosian party?" John asked as they began the walk up the side of the busy road, carts quietly rumbling past on their right.

"Um, yes," Abas readily agreed. "There will be a party. Leader Torren will tell you about it," he confirmed again, seeming more certain now. "Lieutenant Cadman," the guard asked looking round to the Lieutenant walking behind them, "What do you think of your first sight of Tjaru?"

John didn't mind the misdirection onto Cadman. Abas liked new people, as it gave him a chance to get all Tour Guide again. John had heard Abas' speech about the basic history of the city a ton of times now. So, as Abas launched into it now, John quickened his step a little and focused on taking in the sight of Athos around him.

A spritely elderly Athosian was coming towards him along the roadside, so John moved further to the side to give her room to pass. The lady smiled at him, revealing several gaps where she had lost some teeth from her smile. He smiled back as she passed. As she did, he was able to see a young girl was walking right behind her, one little hand clutching a long ribbon hanging from the back of the elder woman's coat.

The little girl let go of the ribbon and stopped to look up at John, her little lashes coated in rain.

"Hi," John grinned down at her. She giggled and hurried on after the older lady again, smiling back at him over her shoulder with another grin. Smiling at the moment, John watched as Cadman waved to the little girl as well as she passed. Which was when John realised that he was a good few metres ahead of the rest of the group and was the one leading them all towards Tjaru. He might be looking a little too eager.

He waited a few beats for the others to catch up, and aware that the guards at the back didn't appear bothered by him leading the way, he continued on ahead.

The drizzle was lifting slightly and he took a deep breath of the good Athosian air. To the right side of the road the usual fields stretched out, the flowers along the borders looking a little wilted now. He guessed summer was almost over on Athos.

Nearing the top of the hill, he led the group across the road to take the right fork to the road that lead them directly up towards the towering Ancient Gateway into Tjaru.

He made sure not to hurry, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure the others were keeping up. Besides, they were fast approaching the Gateway and the City Guards probably wouldn't take too kindly to him entering the city without Abas at his side.

There was a longer line than usual queuing to enter Tjaru today – presumably because of the upcoming big party. Honestly, the Athosians had to party harder than any other alien race he had met so far. Not that he had seen any overt drunkenness. Athosians might know how to celebrate, but they seemed always polite and well behaved.

He was really starting to like Teyla's people.

Almost at the entrance to Tjaru, John held back for Abas, who fell into step with him. However, ahead the City Guards had already noticed their approach and were waving them through, past the checkpoints that all the other visitors and carts had to stop at. As always, John felt faintly embarrassed at jumping the queue, so he smiled politely to those he passed by.

The City Guards glanced over him and the others as they entered, but John was more interesting in the Gateway. As happened every time he walked through the gap between the strangely shaped towers, he felt the waiting tingle of active Ancient tech. The Gateway towers looked like an elongated egg that had been split apart to make way for the entrance space between them, however, between them still hovered the sense of Ancient tech. A feeling which extended below John's feet as well, confirming to him once again that he was almost certain that the Gateway extended far deeper underground that it appeared.

"Guess they need a lot supplies for the festivities," Cadman commented to Abas as they made their way around the cart traffic jam just inside the city. John knew the route though, he had walked it enough times now, so he once again took the lead.

The streets were damp from the drizzle, and away from the routes the carts took, there were hardly any pedestrians around in the drizzle. The store owners of the small shops that lined the streets were out though, many of which were becoming familiar faces. Many of them nodded towards John with equal growing familiarity. He really liked it here, they were good people.

Not for the first time was John grateful that Athos was the first world that they had visited in the Alliance. If it hadn't been for his initial run in with Teyla, he had to wonder if things would have gone so well with the Alliance.

His growing nervous excitement bubbled up as finally the Governing Complex of Tjaru came into view ahead.

Was Teyla in there?

Despite being even more eager now, John held back, letting Abas once again take the lead into the complex. As the Athosian moved ahead, Cadman at his side, John couldn't help but notice that the Lieutenant was keeping her arms close to her sides and her hands tucked in.

It was a relief to get inside away from the drizzle, not that it had sunk all that deeply into his clothes, but John was glad. The usual entrance lobby looked as it always did, apart from a large stack of boxes to one side, two Athosians arranging some of them onto a trolley. More supplies for the festivities.

John wondered if he and Woolsey would get an invite.

Ahead of them the main doors off the lobby opened and Hakon, Torren's personal assistant, appeared through. Beyond him, John caught a glimpse of the main long corridor behind the doors. There was a ton of activity down it, people moving back and forth with plates, pots, and furniture. It was certainly going to be a big party whatever it was going to be.

Maybe Teyla would definitely be here if there was some big important party.

"Greetings," Hakon smiled, but it was never as wide and honest a smile as Torren gave them, but then Hakon always looked like you had interrupted his other vitally important work.

"Hakon," Woolsey greeted him in turn. "Thank you for allowing us another visit." John didn't know why Woolsey had to keep saying that, the visits were twice every week, on the same days each week and at the same time.

"You are most welcome. Leader Torren is just finishing an important meeting. He asked that I lead you straight through to the Tea Room," he said, indicating the corridor to the right that John knew well now.

"Of course," Woolsey replied with a smile as he and Hakon moved towards the corridor.

Cadman stepped up close to John as he followed. "Couldn't help noticing, Sir," she said quietly, "that _he_ held his hands well above his waist."

John controlled his smile. "It's his place, of course he can."

Cadman narrowed her eyes up at him. "You wouldn't be pulling my leg would you, Sir?" She asked.

"Me?" John asked her. "I'm your team leader, I would never do such a thing," he added, looking forward and only slightly controlling his smile.

Cadman made a doubtful sound at his side, but didn't say anything else.

The corridor took them around the usual small courtyard which held a wide variety of growing tea plants and trees, over which the large sliding glass doors of the Tea Room looked out. As they arrived into the room, John saw that the usual tea had just been set out, steam still freshly rising from the three teapots.

And sat at the far side of the low table, now rising to her feet, was Teyla's sister, Zabetha. She smiled widely as she approached.

"Greetings again," she smiled to them. "It is good to see you all well."

"Thank you, Lady Zabetha," Woolsey said quickly as he extended his hand to her. He was always quick to flatter Teyla's sister. "May I introduce a new member to Major Sheppard's team, Lieutenant Cadman of Earth," Woolsey continued.

Woolsey knew the drill now to leave John till last, because John now always got the special Athosian greeting. It was an honour, but nearly always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Lieutenant, welcome to Athos and Tjaru," Zabetha greeted Cadman, extending out her hand. Cadman took it low and shook it gently.

"Lieutenant Ford, you already know," Woolsey added.

"Of course, it is always good to see you, Lieutenant Ford," Zabetha greeted him, shaking his hand.

"Lady Zabetha," Ford replied, copying Woolsey's unofficial title for Torren's younger daughter. They might be enamoured with her, but John kept all his appreciation for Teyla.

He liked Zabetha though, in fact with each visit she seemed more open and friendly.

She turned to him now, her expression growing more serious, as it always did for this greeting.

"Major Sheppard," she said softly, "as always, I greet you last in honour. Thank you always for your assistance in saving my Father's life, my own life, and former High Councillor Charin. You are always welcome in this home." She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders and he returned the gesture, leaning the top of his forehead down against hers.

Each time he went through this ritual with Zabetha he couldn't help comparing her to Teyla. Zabetha's shoulders under his touch were far slender compared to Teyla's. Though always elegant and feminine, Teyla understandably carried far more muscle, which was sculpted and toned with proper daily use. Zabetha felt far more delicate under John's hands as he lifted them and his forehead away and smiled at her.

"You don't have to do this every time," he said very quietly to her.

"Yes, I do," she replied immediately. "For you saved my beloved family. How could I not extend honour to you this day and all others?"

He smiled uncomfortably at her, but found that he couldn't quite pull his eyes from her. There was something different in the way she was looking at him, like she had something else to say.

And she hadn't taken her hands from his shoulders yet either.

"Do know," she continued unusually, "that whatever may happen in the future, that you are _always_ welcome here."

He nodded again to the offer, though it seemed as if Zabetha wanted him to appreciate it even more today.

She lifted her hands from his shoulders and turned to the others. "Shall we sit and enjoy some tea while we wait for my father?"

"Thank you," Woolsey replied for the group.

John turned to join them, only Zabetha's hand gently touched his arm.

"Major Sheppard, I believe you have your own meeting with my sister, Honoured Elite Emmagan," she said, drawing all of John's attention back on her.

Teyla was here. The relief and excitement almost made him twitch under Zabetha's gentle touch.

"Abas," Zabetha called across the room, looking away from John. "Would you guide Major Sheppard to wherever my Honoured Sister is currently located?"

Teyla was close by and he would see her soon. Touch her soon.

Abas hurried forward. "Of course," he replied with a bow.

"Thank you," John bowed slightly to Zabetha, only she didn't quite make eye contact with him this time as she quickly turned her attention to sitting down at the table with the others.

John didn't worry about it though – let them all focus on politics and saying the right thing over the right type of tea. He instead walked with Abas, as they so often did, towards the far door, which was opened for them by the two guards.

His heart lifting and his heart rate increasing, John walked out of the Tea Room, his mind already turning to recalling the touch of her skin, the remembered scent of her hair.

Only, stood in the middle of the corridor outside, apparently having been waiting there, was Torren.

The Athosian leader looked round sharply and smiled with surprise, only John got the strangest feeling that the surprise wasn't real.

"Major Sheppard, it is good to see you," Torren smiled as he approached them. "I timed my arrival well." He glanced at Abas. "You may return to the Tea Room, Abas, I will walk Major Sheppard to my Honoured daughter, otherwise I may not have the chance to talk with him later."

Abas nodded and left, but something heavy settled in John's stomach. Something was up.

"Major," Torren smiled as he stepped up closer, lifting his hands, initiating the Athosian greeting that he too gave John every time now. John quickly set his hands on the man's shoulders and pressed the top of her forehead to Torren's. "I am pleased to run into you before your meeting with my daughter," Torren began before he pulled his forehead back.

"It's always good to see you too," John replied cautiously as he lowered his hands from Torren's shoulders.

He had a terrible sense of dread that he was about to get a Dad Talk. Did Torren know about him and Teyla?

"I believe my daughter is taking a late mid meal in the family's dining area, I am sure she would be happy for you to join her there," Torren smiled pleasantly as he turned towards the corridor behind him as an invitation for John to follow him.

"Great, thanks," John replied, trying to sound normal and casual.

"I trust all is well in Atlantis?" Torren asked as they walked together.

John was almost certain that Torren was walking slower than usual, and he made himself slow down to keep pace with the man. Torren didn't seem to be limping or in any pain or anything, which left the disconcerting conclusion that he was prolonging the walk to talk longer.

"It's gotten a little easier now the treaty has been signed," John replied honestly. Maybe Torren wanted to talk about the treaty. He had been a major player in planning it and organising support within the Alliance. "Thank you for all your help with that," John added.

"I was more than happy to assist in what has, and will, clearly benefit both our peoples."

John nodded, hoping that would turn out to be as true.

"I hope that you know, Major Sheppard, that regardless of the non-aggression treaty, Athos will hold tight to our personal treaty with Atlantis. I hope that the same will hold true for Atlantis," Torren said, sounding like he was choosing his words carefully, "regardless as to what might happen in the future."

"Of course," John replied immediately, only to pause – should he agree to that, not being in charge himself? "I'm sure my people will do everything to keep to our treaty." That sounded more like something Woolsey would say.

"To those in the Alliance, treaties are the lifeblood of cooperation and unity. The Military is vital and does amazing work, but it is only as strong as it is because of the mutual trade and cooperation that brings together the vast resources of metals, workers, designers, engineers and such that build and maintain the Fleet and all the military's weapons. All need to be fed, and that only happens with cooperation of everyone working together towards the greater good. At times that truth is forgotten by some, but it is still true nonetheless. Trade, treaties and friendships hold the strongest of bonds."

John nodded, glancing at Torren to find the man frowning seriously at him. "I understand," John agreed readily.

"For our worlds, treaties go beyond the personal people involved, the personal interactions, as well. My people will always hold to our promises to all across the Alliance and beyond. Only together can we ensure a positive future for all our existences."

John began to worry that Torren was trying to tell him something very specific. He wasn't sick was he?

"Is everything okay, Torren?" John asked carefully, not sure if he should ask something like that of the Athosian leader. But, Torren had always seemed pretty laid back about that kind of protocol, although the man always appeared regal and in control. John wondered if Teyla had gotten that from him or from her mother too.

"All is well," Torren replied with an apparently honest smile. "I just wish to impress upon you our commitment to the treaty, not just between the Alliance and Atlantis and Earth, but between Athos and yourselves as well. We will hold to it regardless of any changes through time."

John nodded, wondering if he was missing something obvious in the man's subtext. He ran through what Torren had said, but it all just seemed to be about promising to keep to the treaties. Why Torren thought something might threaten that...

"How are things in the Alliance?" John asked carefully.

"All is as usual," Torren replied. "Bickering, lives saved, treaties formed, contracts made and stretched. Life continues as it always does since the Wraith were swept from our local stars." He was smiling. Okay, that didn't seem to back up John's theory that Torren might be warning him about something bad about to happen in the Alliance.

"Sounds great," John replied weakly. "If you're worried that the trade is not going both ways," he tried instead, "I know Mr Woolsey has some ideas on some new trade items we could offer to Athos."

"Any trade is welcome," Torren replied with another smile. "I had in no way thought your people's part of our treaty lacking." Okay, it wasn't that. That was good.

"Our peoples have so much to offer each other, in both culture as well as trade," Torren continued.

"On that note," John added, remembering his promise to Rodney, "some of our scientists really would value meeting some of your scientists, talk about your Ancestor technology, and we could let them see Atlantis in return," John suggested trying to phrase it how he imagined Woolsey might.

"I am sure that at some point such trade can occur," Torren replied, which was another one of those carefully worded replies.

Woolsey would nod and agree.

"So, not right now," John said instead.

Torren glanced briefly at him, maybe surprised at John's translation, but Torren smiled before looking ahead. They were now heading down the short corridor to the entrance to the family part of the complex.

She was close.

"Hopefully such an exchange can occur soon," Torren offered.

John nodded. "Okay," he replied, though not entirely sure how he was going to translate that to Rodney. Rodney certainly wouldn't be happy with it, but then when was the guy ever happy with anything unless he had just personally solved some critical puzzle that saved everybody.

"I very much look forward to the day when I can visit Atlantis myself," Torren added.

John smiled, but they were fast approaching the door at the end of the corridor. She wasn't very far away now, only a few metres behind that door.

A single guard stood on duty at the door in question, who John was pretty sure he recognised. The guy didn't blink an eyelid at John's presence alongside Torren, so maybe he was a usual guard. John wasn't usually paying all that much attention to the guards when he got to join Teyla in this part of the complex.

He should probably work on that.

Sumner would say he wasn't paying full attention to his surroundings, but hey, Tjaru was becoming very familiar surroundings, and in particular this part of the city.

"You're always welcome to visit Atlantis," John told Torren honestly. "I know Colonel Carter would be pleased, as I would," he added hurriedly as they reached the door.

Torren stopped at the entrance to the family part of the complex as the guard triggered open the door, but Torren didn't move forward to go through.

John turned to face Torren.

"Thank you," Torren replied to the offer. "I hope to one day take up that offer." There was a pause. "I believe you know the way inside," Torren added.

John studied Torren's expression as subtly but as thoroughly as he could. Did Torren know about him and Teyla? The problem was that Torren had one of those politician poker faces, albeit a smiling polite one.

Plus John still got the feeling that Torren had been trying to tell him something during this conversation, but he wasn't all that sure what it was.

Unsure what to say or do about any of that though, John decided that a silent nod would be the safest response.

The sweet scent of incense drifted to John through the open doorway to his right. It brought with it a wealth of sensual memories and a strange sense of home.

"I hope to speak with you again after your meeting with my honoured daughter," Torren added.

"Okay, great," John replied. "Thanks."

Torren nodded and then abruptly walked away.

It was a rather sudden move from the usually calm man, but truthfully John was happy enough to turn all his attention to stepping through the doorway into the incense and softly lit interior of Teyla's Athosian home.

The door slid shut behind him, leaving him alone in the small lobby. The deep colours to the walls and lush thick rug under his boots added a soft luxury, and ahead to the left he saw soft golden candlelight dancing through the archway that led to the family's dining area.

Which was where Teyla would be.

He moved towards the inviting light, his heart racing in his chest, he felt like he was burning with anticipation. Alone now, knowing there wouldn't be any guards around here, he let the feelings rise up, embracing the pulsing excitement and the plain need to see her again.

He stepped around the frame of the archway, craning his neck ahead of him to be able to see her as soon as was possible.

She was by herself, sat at the side of the large dark wooden dining table, her attention directed down on an electronic pad in front of her.

He knew she would have heard the door open and close when he had entered the lobby, but maybe she was used to the sound and thought it was one of her family.

Or maybe it was one of her little teasing games where she pretended disinterest.

Either way, it gave him a few seconds to drink in the sight of her – alive and well, the candlelight that always seemed to glow in this room, dancing over her beautiful golden skin.

Each time he saw her, he was struck anew by just how beautiful she was, how pretty the turn of her cheek and throat were running down her neck to the feminine strength of her shoulders and arms. The dark length of her eyelashes, the roundness of her lips...

She looked round at him, her wide deep eyes coming into view, the candlelight creating stunning emphasising shadows across her beautiful features.

He watched her recognise it was him, her eyes widening slightly, her lips parting softly in a smile.

"Hey," he said with a smile, though it might have been a grin, but he didn't care, he just drank in her presence, his body singing with desire.

He felt a tension ease away inside, as if he had been holding his breath since the last time he had seen her. He realised how worried he had been that something had happened to her and just how desperate he had been to see her after what had happened to Elite Kari.

But seeing wasn't enough.

He moved towards her, keeping his eyes locked with hers, letting the need rise up without restraint as she rose up from her seat.

He registered that no one else was in sight, not even Ketra at her mistress' feet, but even if there had been a hundred people in here, he would still only have eyes for Teyla.

In two strides he reached her, slid his hands around her beautiful cheeks, and lowered his mouth down against her familiar, full and opening lips.

He felt her soft intake of breath as their mouths met, felt her hands touch against his bare forearms, and it all crashed together into roaring satisfaction as he pressed his mouth fully to hers, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

She reacted instantly to his kiss, as she always did, with arousing, equal passion, her hands tightening against his skin, her tongue tangling with his.

He drew in a deep breath through his nose, drawing in the indescribable scent of her as he pressed his chest to hers, and everything fell away but the touch of her against him.

00000000  
TBC


	9. Rage and Romance

00000

**Chapter 9 – Rage and Romance  
**

Zabetha had convinced her to move down to the family dining area for some food some time ago, and though craving the privacy of her quarters, Teyla had remained here by herself. Here at least she could try to do something useful with the prolonged waiting.

The report from the Military Council's emergency meeting on the Toshka incident sat before her, but truthfully she hadn't managed to read more than a few paragraphs. Her heart was simply not interested. She was far too interested in watching the minutes pass by.

Father had appeared not too long ago, personally informing her that John and the others from Atlantis had arrived through the Portal.

Since then, she had achieved even less in her reading.

The anxiety ate at her.

The practised words turned through her mind, annoying her now.

She focused back down on the pad, forcing herself to understand the plain language.

Outside, through the open doorway to the Orchard Courtyard, Teyla could hear a gardener humming. She was out there in the light rain, taking down the last of the fruit crop. The woman was the only person around this part of the complex, Father and Zabetha being in the meeting with Atlantis, and Elkaska had headed out with Charin into Tjaru today to arrange some last details for the wedding.

She suspected everyone was giving her space.

She felt both embarrassed and deeply grateful for that.

Yet, the distant gentle sounds of clippers and the soft fall of fruits bouncing down into the gardener's padded basket were welcome. Teyla couldn't see the open doorway from here, but the scrape of the ladder against bark, the shift in the gardener's gentle humming, told Teyla the tale of the easy contented work outside.

She had purposed not brought Ketra down here, for which the gardener had expressed her gratitude earlier. Ketra would no doubt have found such readily available fruit far too tempting.

So Teyla sat alone in the candlelight of the dining room.

It felt far too symbolic to her right now.

The sudden soft sliding hiss of the door to the family area sliding open echoed outside in the lobby.

All of Teyla's senses focused on the sound. Holding her breath, she waited to hear the fall of boots across the lobby carpet...

Nothing happened.

She could hear voices, but they were a little too distant outside the main door to be audible.

She waited a little longer, straining her hearing, her eyes flittering to the time displayed on the wall above the dining table.

Even moving at a slow steady pace, John and his people would have made it to the Governing Complex by now, mostly likely already inside the complex.

No one stepped through the main door into the lobby though.

Which meant it was mostly like just the guard outside, possibly even a change of shift.

Annoyed at her hypersensitivity to everything, she returned her attention to the pad lying on the table before her. It seemed incomprehensible to her, her mind and body too distracted to even be able to process simple words.

Soft footfalls suddenly registered to her right – someone was entering the entrance to the dining room.

She felt the focused attention on her before she even began to look round.

He was here.

Finally here in the flesh, stood in the archway entrance, flattering candlelight and dancing shadows around him.

As happened each time she saw him, she was struck by how truly handsome he was. All her anxiety of the last days simply fell away at the glorious sight of him.

His smile was soft and his greeting almost unheard as he moved towards her, his beautiful eyes soft and dark, and his striking presence stealing her breath.

His smile, full of so much that she recognised and responded to instinctively – affection, humour, pleasure, relief, and something so deeply stirring that she felt nothing but intense joyful relief in seeing him again.

She rose from her seat as he approached, her mind returning somewhat to the anxiety which tried to rein in the natural overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him.

Only he was so close, his eyes falling to her lips, his warm hands touching her cheeks, and the masculine scent of him surrounded her like a sensual blanket.

Her body responded without any thought, the touch of his lips to hers so familiar, and so welcome, despite what was to come.

Why not enjoy one last kiss.

Only his lips began to press against hers with the flowing rapid moment of growing passion, their warmth inviting familiarity like a strike to her being, stealing away the last vestiges of logical thought.

She leant into the heat of his body, his tongue sliding around hers, the taste of him a long missed and achingly nostalgic memory.

His arms were moving around her, drawing her even closer into him, as she matched his deepening of the kiss, the soft almost emotional slow deep penetrations sparking real physical reactions throughout her body.

And with those reactions, some sense returned, not of what she needed to say, but of where they were.

She began to pull her mouth from his, tightening her hand on the front of his jacket, and he responded instantly, pulling his mouth free and his hold around her loosened.

And in that simple release, so abrupt and responsive had he been to her faintest tension, she felt a burst of pain as to what was to come.

He pulled back from her slightly, her chest and arms feeling instantly cold without his touch. "Sorry," he said so softly, so gently and imbued with that sensual humour that teased at her. "Forgot where we were."

She nodded as she licked her lips and tried to pull herself together.

Yet, he was still releasing her, his hands falling from her sides as he put more distance between their bodies.

Her heart, so foolishly open and raw in that moment, cried out at that loss and that this would be the last time to feel him, to have this beautiful untainted honesty with him before it was lost.

He was glancing around, looking for anyone who may be around. There was that wonderful humour in his expression though, despite his caution. She could not pull her eyes from him, noticing that his jaw was slightly darkened today with natural stubble. His eyes lowering back to hers.

Why did he have to be so handsome to look upon?

Why did he have to steal her mind and her breath so easily?

Why could it not be easier than this?

She glanced away, crushing down the emotions that threatened to rush up and clog up her voice.

She cleared her throat as she blinked away some of the haze his presence, let alone his welcoming kiss, had created.

"It is alright," she assured him, "there is only a gardener outside in the courtyard."

He nodded. "Good, don't want to get caught out by your uncle or the butler."

She frowned at the term she did not understand.

"A butler is someone who answers the door, brings tea," he began to ramble. "It doesn't matter. You okay?" He asked, his voice deepening, softening further, drawing her back into the promise of reaching up to touch him again, to feel his lips one more time.

She saw that he could see that something disturbed her, that as responsive as he had been to her touch earlier, he now could see something was wrong.

She nodded and glanced away, appearing to look in the direction of the still open doorway to the courtyard. The angle of the door was such that even if the gardener had been stood just outside she would have been unlikely to have seen the shared kiss. It hardly mattered to Teyla if she had, for this was to be...

"I am well," she made herself say, forcing herself to look back up to him.

He frowned faintly, his hands lightly touching her arms again. "You sure?" She could tell he was unconvinced and was concerned about her. His eyes studied her with less seduction now and more of a warrior's focus.

"I am fine," she told him, reaching out and touching her fingers against the middle of his chest without thinking. His body warmth teased her fingers and the scent of things Earth rose from the fabric.

She should restrain herself, but she saw the reaction in him that such a simple touch had caused. His smile and softer gaze returning.

"You got me worried there," he said in a way that implied it was a joke.

She took a steadying breath as she glanced back round towards the doorway to the courtyard.

She was tempted to talk with him here, to cut to the chase of the matter, to confess her heartfelt regret and pour out the excuses she had practised so frequently.

Yet, it was too public and she knew that she traitorously wished to delay the moment now that he was here.

It would not be fair to tell him here, where anyone could overhear. He deserved better, and she needed privacy.

In case the emotions rose to overwhelm her again.

He truly tore away all her control.

And it was that reminder that gave her a rush of determination. She looked up at him with a breath.

"There is one matter that I do need to discuss with you," she told him, pleased with those simple determined words at least.

"Sure," he replied at ease, unaware and perhaps thinking it was their customary excuse to find time alone.

Was it wise to be alone with him? Perhaps it would be best to remain here...

Except she could hear the gardener's soft happy humming.

"We should retire perhaps," she suggested, then regretted the turn of phrase, one that in the past was more akin to a double meaning between them. "There are official matters that I do need to discuss with you," she added more seriously.

He nodded with another smile and she fought not to smile back, but still did so. "Things okay on the Sythus?" He asked as he turned, walking with her towards the archway to the lobby.

They had walked this route many times, climbing the stairs up to the living quarters of the complex, up to her personal quarters. She tried to push away the realisation that this would be the last time to do this with him.

Part of her wanted to beg him not to walk any further, not to make her live what was to be an ending.

She focused her thoughts, again annoyed at herself for losing such control of her thoughts and heart.

"There has been some commotion of late," she managed to say. They were walking across the rugs towards the stairs.

"Everyone okay?" He asked with honest concern. Though he had only worked alongside her fellow Elite from the Sythus a handful of times, the connections felt far deeper. He had enamoured himself with Si, Halling, and somehow even Oneakka, and had done so without any ego or politics driving him. He was simply an honourable man, a warrior with a good heart.

One she had to distance herself from, yet being so soon to arrive at the moment was even more difficult than she had realised.

She had forgotten how much she simply loved being around him.

"No one was hurt," she replied as they began to climb the stairs.

"I know what that means," he smiled.

She looked round at him next to her, seeing in his eyes something assessing. "Oh?" She found herself asking.

He looked ahead of them as they turned the short landing and continued up the next flight of stairs. "Yeah, probably a gun battle, some sword play," he joked, mostly, as he looked back at her. "Somebody got hurt."

There had been something in that last word, almost a question and that assessing expression returned around his eyes. She sensed some concern in it still.

Was he perhaps referring to Kari?

She looked away. "Something like that," she replied, trying to smile, but it was brittle.

They walked up the next few steps in silence.

"I'm sorry about what happened to Kari," he said, speaking of the matter out loud, surprising her somewhat with his directness.

The haunting grief and guilt reared their heads as she nodded, watching her boots sink into the thick carpet at the top of the stairs. "She will be missed."

John nodded as they headed down the corridor, side by side again.

"You going to have a new Elite join the Sythus?" He asked.

"Perhaps," she replied. "Though we are due to leave on a vital mission tomorrow eve, so the decision may wait until after our return."

"Got to do the interviews, collect CVs," he joked, though she did not entirely understand the last word, but she understood his point.

Elite interviewing each other – it almost made her smile.

"Just don't put Oneakka in charge of interviewing anyone," John added, his shoulder bumping gently against hers.

She smiled honestly at that. "It would become more an interrogation than an interview."

"I've had a few interviews come close to interrogation," he replied.

They had reached her quarters and she triggered open the door. As always, Ketra was sat on the other side looking up expectantly, only this time she bounded forward with more exuberance. She had heard John approaching.

"Hey, Ketra," John greeted the bubbling whirl of dragon as he fought get in through the door.

Teyla smiled at the display, grateful for the distraction as she led the way into her space, the door sliding shut behind John.

"Decided to stop growing upwards and start to fill out instead, huh?" John asked Ketra as he rubbed her back.

Teyla set down the one sword she had been wearing and set her single stunner aside on her desk. She looked back across her living space and watched as John crouched down on the floor with Ketra, who was circling him repeatedly as he stroked her sides.

"She does appear to be increasing her muscle mass," Teyla commented as she approached them.

Her previously practised words circled her mind just as Ketra circled John's legs. He stood back up, one hand massaging Ketra's closest ear.

"It's probably all those Wraith she's killing," he joked, knowing that Ketra had not done so since the time she had helped save John's life from a Wraith. An event which had, for some reason, changed Ketra's initial view of John from hostile to loving him as if family.

That thought made Teyla glance away.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked approaching, his tone worried.

She nodded. "How is Atlantis?" She asked, looking up at him as he neared.

"No one's tried to attack the city or try to assassinate me in at least a week," he replied with that lopsided smile of his.

The reminder of that fateful night in his quarters in Atlantis did not lessen her growing anxiety.

"You must be more careful in the future," she reminded him.

"Because you can't always be around to save my backside, I know," He said as he stepped up close to her, well within her personal space. His eyes were dark and amused at the reference to their usual joke.

But, who would watch over him once she was out of his life? Be that in her new marriage or when one day a Wraith took her life in battle.

"I am serious," she insisted up to him, aware that she had only so much time now to say such things. "If Kolya is seeking to hurt you-"

"Then we'll stop him," he interrupted and suddenly his hands were once more touching her face, his fingertips warm and caressing. "Or we could just set Ketra on him," he added in a low voice as he once more lowered his mouth towards her.

She thought to stop him, to pull back, but she did not.

It was her last chance after all.

This time his mouth moved with a seductive touch, drawing and teasing against her lips. It pulled all her attention to his caresses, one of his hands sliding around the back of her head, her hair tangling in his fingers as his mouth opened wider against hers.

The spell settled over her again, drawing in her senses and her mind as if she were partway through the event horizon of a Portal when that unfathomable force pulled her all way into its watery embrace.

As he pulled her into his embrace. Not with force or teasing pulls, but with the pure physicality of him.

His chest was warm against her hands, the fabric of his jacket soft as she gripped it, holding tightly onto the moment a little longer.

His own hands slid down her back, sliding around her, drawing her further against him and she sank into the embrace, sinking into the hard plains of his chest and the containing warmth of his arms.

If this was to be her last kiss, then she would indulge in it fully.

She opened her mouth further as she sought deeper into the warm wetness of his mouth, his taste and the scent of his skin stirring powerful memories.

He drew in a loud inhalation against their kiss, the sound almost a growl of approval as he pulled her tighter to him, forcing them to angle their heads to one side to maintain their kiss and press so close.

She felt the hard press of his arousal, felt the new tightness in his grip at her back, and it created a powerful new throbbing deep inside her.

She broke the kiss, not to pull away from the growing sensations, but needing oxygen. She drew air into her suddenly hot body, willing a moment of clarity, but his mouth slid over her jaw and down her throat.

She closed her eyes at the sensation, nothing seeming to make sense to her but his mouth, his hands sliding up under her short top, air spreading against her back.

Just one more touch.

His touch was at the back of her neck now, her top caught up under her arms. She let go of him, telling herself to step away from him, but instead she helped him remove the fabric.

His lips caught at hers as soon as she was free of the top, the fabric dropping from her hands as quickly as it did from her awareness.

His mouth moved lower, his warm wet tongue sliding over her collarbone, softly biting above one breast, and she tightened her fingers in his spiky hair.

The thought once more rose to stop this, to find a moment of clarity to stop the passion, but the thoughts died in the swirl of his tongue around one of her nipples.

She was faintly aware that they had been moving, that she had been letting him push her backwards across her quarters towards where the door led through to her bedroom. It was a route they had travelled in a similar state many times before.

Shadows fell over her face as they passed through the small tiny interlinking hallway and then through her bedroom doorway, but she kept her attention focused on pulling his dark jacket and his tight shirt up and off of him, desperate to touch his chest one last time.

Turbulent need drove her now, as well as an all too willing desire to lose herself into the simple purity of this last moment with him.

His hands were inside her trousers, pushing them down from her backside, his hands hot, squeezing.

She heard herself gasp as his fingers sought further, sliding against her core, teasing with knowing familiarity at how she liked to be touched.

That simple fact felt as painfully symbolic as much as it was electrifying. She held still, letting him tease her, pleasure her and lead her only further into the oblivion that she desperately sought.

His mouth sucked and kissed up her throat again as his fingers pressed deeper up into her. She clung to him, digging her fingers into the thick muscle of his upper arms. She was so close to what she had not realised she needed.

His breath was hot over her lips as she panted, his fingers sliding deeper.

Soft pressure against the back of her legs was her bed, and she opened her eyes, surprised at where she was, but with a whispered encouragement from John's mouth against hers, she let herself sit down onto it, surrendering as his hands pulled from inside her trousers.

But he did not leave her. She blinked as he swiftly pulled down the last of her clothing, revealing her bare legs, which she encircling around his naked middle, her eyes trailing down his long torso to the tight restraint of fabric around his hips and groin.

And then he was lowering, his hands sliding up the inside of her thighs.

Almost unable to think at all now, she cried out at the touch of his mouth against her, his hands cupping her backside again as his tongue penetrated into her.

She arched her back as the sensations overtook her, reaching down and holding tightly to his hair as she moved with him.

It was a sudden shaking orgasm that hit her, sweeping numbed blissfulness into sharp intensity that had her snap open her eyes and stare down at John between her legs. He lifted his face from her, and was reaching away, roughly pulling open the draw beside her bed. He pulled out a small packed sheath, quickly tucking it between his teeth as he rose up next to her on the bed.

He was too dressed.

She pulled open his belt and the fastenings beneath it as he tore open the sealed packet. As he settled onto his back next to her she was unwrapping him in turn. She sighed in growing regained need at the muscle, skin, and arousal revealed. His long thighs were thick and lean as she pushed away his trousers, running her hands back up their length and setting one knee on the far side of him. Astride over him, his length protectively sheathed, and his hands sliding up her body, she bent down over him, her nipples grazing against his chest hair as she slid her tongue into his mouth.

He met her attack with equal ferocity, his hands tight against her, his forearms like bands of wrought metal enclosing her, pulling her over him, holding and adding resistance for her as she reached between them and guided him to her.

She pulled her mouth from his as she took him in, the sliding length of him seeming somehow even more satisfying than she had remembered. He groaned under her, muttering something divine as his lips pressed against her throat.

She ground down onto him, taking him in entirely, circling, seeking to be with him as deeply as possible, but in that fact she felt the recalled emotion rising up once more.

Pushing it away, she stared down at him as she began to rise and lower, stroking them together one last time...

She closed her eyes again.

His palms slid up over her breasts, squeezing and caressing, and she heard him whisper her name.

She squeezed her eyes shut further, willing away the rush of tears, wishing the pouring emotion flowering through her chest was not as intense as the purely physical arousing giving of his body.

His hands slid over her, around her back, down to her hips, down and up her thighs, and over her belly.

She dropped her head backwards, denying herself the sight of him, wishing control even in this moment, but he was too much, it was too overwhelming.

His hands covered her breasts again, so close to her heart, so close to where she wished she could live.

She cupped her hands over his, holding him to her as she ground down, the pressure rising. It grew stronger as he sat up under her, his mouth suddenly against her lower lip, and she dipped her mouth to seal her lips to his.

One last time...

His arms around her, he lifted up into her as she moved, their rhythm well developed now, attuned and equal...

She licked into his mouth, trying to memorise it all, yet it was so difficult to keep focus, to...

She cried out, breaking her mouth from his, one of his hands firm on her backside, pulling them tighter together as they danced their last together.

She gasped with the heavy thrusts, gripping onto his rounded muscular shoulders, and bent to press her lips to his skin, wishing away the tears that truly threatened to spill.

Her eyes closed, she could only feel him holding her, filling her, kissing her shoulder, his heart hammering in his chest against hers.

And her body seemed to split apart as the passion exploded in her, firing off all her nerve endings and spreading electric heat throughout.

As it washed over and through her, clasping tightly to John, she felt him go rigid, his body tensing under hers as he let out a long pained pleasured groan against the hollow of her throat, his hips pulsing between her legs.

She held on to him, her anchor in the washing sea of nothing but sensations.

She had almost forgotten how wonderful it was with him.

Then she was falling, softness meeting her side as she collapsed down against the bed beside him.

Pleasure, sweet exhaustion, and wondrous peace were all she felt and she held onto them. Panting into the incense scent of her bed throw, she simply enjoyed the feel of John's body beside hers, his arm and leg lying partly over her, his skin clinging to hers.

The silence inside and outside of herself was soothing, the first relief and peace she had had in days, but around its edges she felt the tangled truth of mental clarity fast approaching. She resisted it, willing her own nature away, wishing away her regimented life...

Only the clarity focused on the scent beneath her cheek, of the sensation of the slightly crinkled bed throw. A throw she had had since she had been young. She had used to sneak out into the Orchard Courtyard with it wrapped around her shoulders, where she would look up to the stars and dream of the worlds that circled them. She had imagined the fight against the Wraith raging out among those pinpoints of light, all from within the warmth of her bed throw.

Her first dreams of her Elite life had been born in its warmth.

She opened her eyes, the clarity abruptly reasserted and the former softer wishes falling away as childish and dishonourable.

She blinked at the sight of John's bare shoulder filling her view.

He was softly stroking her arm, his breathing settling from its rapid pace.

"I need to speak with you," she uttered. They were words from the practised nights in which she had rehearsed how to tell him of her decisions. Though they were entirely inappropriate to say now, considering what they had just shared, she found that they tumbled from her lips now.

He turned his head towards her, blinking sleepily, his eyes focusing on her with a faint frown of forced concentration.

"I had meant to tell you sooner," she told him, the words gathering pace. "It was swiftly arranged."

His frown deepened, but more from confusion. She saw him forming a question with his lips, which were swollen and red from their kisses. She forged on, unable to stop now.

"The celebrations tomorrow," she took a breath, tasting their combined scents between them and it distracted the words for a moment. "It is purely political, a decision I have made for the better of others."

He shifted next to her to look at her more directly, the unusual green of his eyes showing as his pupils contracted. "What do you-?"

She did not let him ask anymore. "I should have spoken with you sooner, not that there is anything binding between us, but I thought it...polite to." She was losing the line of her practised words and she was getting confused with the order of the phrases.

She pushed herself up from the mattress, dislodging his arm and leg as she did. She felt the need to cover herself.

She had been foolish, dishonourable to him.

"What's polite?" He asked, clearly confused.

She took a breath and looked to where he was partly raised up on one elbow beside her, his expression still sleepy.

She felt deeply guilty and shameful in selecting this moment to tell him. But it was upon her now.

"I have decided to enter into a Political Marriage, the ceremony is tomorrow," she told him in a rush.

His eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped open in shock. "What?!" He asked in disbelief.

He sat up sharply. "You don't believe in Political Marriages," he told her with continuing disbelief.

"I did not say that exactly, they have their value," she found herself arguing.

"Like what?" He objected almost angrily. "Enslaving people together?"

She felt her back rise slightly at that comment and the tone he was using. People did not raise their voices often to an Elite.

"Political Marriages are an important part of how the Alliance works-"

"Like keeping slaves?" He interrupted.

"It is not the same thing. That is an outdated inhumane practice-" She reasoned as she rose up from the bed, reaching for her robe to cover herself.

"And arranged marriages aren't?" He challenged standing up from the bed as well.

"It is not arranged, I choose whom I marry," she explained to him as she secured the ties of her robe around her middle.

"Who is he?" John demanded, his face dark and stony, which was in strange sharp contrast to the fact that he stood in the intimacy of nudity.

"The final decision has not been made," she explained. "But at this point, it is highly like to be General Maloo-"

"How long have you been seeing him?" John demanded.

Thrown again by his repeated interruptions and the growing sense that she had lost control of the discussion, she faced him solidly as she gripped her robe's ties.

"I have _not_ been seeing him," she explained. "I have not even met him yet."

"You haven't even met the guy?! And this _isn't_ an arranged marriage?"

"No, it is not," she argued back.

"Sure sounds like one to me," John pushed. "You haven't met the guy and you're marrying him tomorrow."

She took a deep breath, willing patience. "It may not be Maloo, I could choose another in the Offering Ceremony."

"There are other guys?" He asked angrily.

"The list has not been finalised," she explained.

"Have you met _any_ of them?" He asked, his tone disrespectful and mocking.

"Some perhaps," she replied, her own anger rising again. Why would he not stop and listen to her?

His jaw tensed as he stared down at her, his eyes wide. "Have you been sleeping with any of them?"

Shocked at the question, she stood up to her full height, albeit far shorter than his.

"How dare you ask that question," she told him sternly.

"Is that a yes or a no?" He pushed.

She clenched her lips and teeth together willing herself to remain calm. "You have no right to-"

"I get it," John interrupted again, reaching down to the floor for his clothes scattered between their feet.

She felt the urge to step away from him, give him space to collect up his clothes, but she held her ground.

"You do not 'get it'," she informed him. "This is a purely political contract designed to bind Athos with another Alliance world in trade and friendship. It will bring worlds together as well as forging ties with the Elite."

"So, you're selling yourself for some trade deals," John interpreted as he pulled on his trousers.

"I am not selling myself," she objected forcefully. "This is about contracts, not sex."

"And what's this been?" He asked gesturing violently to the bed beside them, his shirt and jacket in one of his hands.

She frowned up at him, searching to keep a grasp of the logic to the argument and not give in to the urge to just walk away from him until he calmed down. Until she calmed down.

She did not back away from any battle, and she needed him to understand.

She took a breath. "We both knew this was something that could not last," she reminded him as gently as she could, finding it difficult to meet his eyes directly. "I am sorry to tell you this now, it has only been arranged this week."

"You should have told me," he almost shouted.

"I did not know before this week," she argued back, finding it easier to meet his eyes when her anger rose.

"Why now?" He asked, with his chest bare and his shoulders wide he seemed so much stronger in his defiance.

He truly did not understand and was taking this as a slight against him.

"The Alliance is fracturing," she explained, the words pouring out of her quickly before he might interrupt her again and not allow her to explain why this was important. "You saw for yourself during the treaty talks, we have discussed this-"

"And you think you marrying yourself off to someone in the High Council is going to make it all better? Make all the politics and backstabbing go away?"

She breathed out forcefully. "I know it will not do that, but it is in forging alliances such as this that created the Alliance in the first place. General Maloo is not of the High Council, he is a Genii general-"

"He's Genii?!" John asked angrily, his shirt halfway on. "You're going to marry a Genii?"

Taken back somewhat by his reaction to that point, she frowned up at him. "Perhaps."

"After one of them tried to kill me?" He demanded.

"That was one Genii. You cannot condemn an entire race for one man's actions-"

"They tried to take over Atlantis, Teyla," he interrupted yet again.

"Will you let me finish a complete sentence!" She told him angrily, confused, her own raised voice shocking herself.

It did not intimidate or faze John however, as it would have anyone else to have Elite warrior Emmagan shout at them. Not John though, instead she saw something almost pleased pass in his expression.

"Maybe I would if you weren't doing something so stupid," he told her.

She glared up at him, her temper flaring as she had only experienced a few times in her lifetime. "How dare you."

"I dare, Teyla," he told her plainly, stepping forward slightly. "Because I'm not one of your people, I don't have to bow down to your Elite status, begging for your attention and time in your bed."

Her mouth dropped open in shock and offence.

"You're about to marry a planet that not only tried to take my city away from me, killing some of my people in the process, but who then sent an assassin into my bedroom late at night to kill me!"

"I was the one who saved you," she pointed out. "Kolya is one individual acting off his own back on all those occasions."

"Cowen ordered the invasion of Atlantis," John argued.

"You do not know that for sure," she responded.

"Of course he did, why excommunicate Kolya so publically otherwise?"

"They thought he was dead," she pushed, realising that she was losing her way in this and perhaps not helping the situation. Why was she arguing on the side of the Genii?

Because she was about to become a Genii wife?

Was this what a Political Marriage would do to her?

"I don't believe this," John uttered as he pulled his shirt fully down into place and grabbed up his holster from on top of her crumpled bed.

She took a deep breath, trying to make herself see this from his point of view.

"I need you to understand that this is not about us," she tried.

"You sleeping with other men makes it about us," he objected as he clipped his holster around his waist.

"I have not slept with anyone else," she almost shouted at him, "and will never be likely to with Maloo. Sex is not part of a Political Marriage."

"Have you seen your sister and Rhakshar together?" John asked gesturing off towards the far wall. "I'm pretty sure everyone knows they're sleeping together."

"They are an exception," Teyla tried to explain. "All I am interested in doing is working to foster good relations and trade between Maloo's people and mine, as well as with the Elite."

He seemed to freeze at that, his face going swiftly blank as his eyes seemed to bore into her. "Is that what I've been?" He asked.

Thrown yet again in this unpredictable and horrible discussion, she tried to interpret his meaning. "What?"

"Was I just a way of 'fostering good relations and trade' with Atlantis?"

Her mouth opened once more with shock. "How can you ask that?"

To think he would think so little of her, to think all that they had shared was about politics.

"What am I supposed to think, Teyla?" He asked sharply in response. "Because it seems that I'm not anymore use to you now, so I'm being thrown aside for the new guy who you want on good terms for your dad and the Elite. A Genii as well," he added with disgust.

"We agreed from the start that politics had nothing to do with our time together," she pointed out, feeling abruptly hurt, her chest physically painful to think that he would think so little of her and what they had shared. Had she foolishly believed that it had meant as much to him as it had to her?

He turned away from her, showing her his back as he shoved his feet into his boots and, leaving them unsecured, he stomped away across her bedroom towards the open bedroom doorway. "Now I understand what your dad was going about on the way here," he was muttering. "All worried about trade with Atlantis."

Father had talked to him about that?

In truth, she had not actually considered that the marriage to a Genii would be such a major issue for John and Atlantis. After all the marriage was an internal Alliance matter, but she realised now that in choosing a Genii, it might significantly affect relations between Athos and Atlantis.

Father had realised that. Why had he not mentioned it to her before now?

Perhaps because Maloo was clearly going to be the final offer tomorrow and that Athos would gain considerably from the marriage contract. Yet, Father had tried it seemed to speak with John, but out of context, John had not understood Father's point.

She had not ever truly believed that John would hold her decision against her people, and somehow influence trade between Atlantis and Athos. But, she had not expected him to be so angry as this. Why had she not realised that he would react in such a way regarding a Genii? She had forgotten that for him, there was no division between the political world of the Genii Confederation and the terrible things that Kolya had done outside the border.

In that anger, would John hurt the trade negotiations?

Could her marriage fracture the contract with Atlantis?

"John," she said hurriedly to him as she followed him out of her bedroom into the small hallway outside. "Please do not make this about anything but us. Do not blame Athos for my decision."

He had reached the living room and, just inside the doorway, Ketra was stood staring up at them with nervous alarm in her eyes, her collar of spines partially lifted up from her neck.

"That's not my call, Teyla," John responded over his shoulder. "This is _purely_ _political_ after all."

Her own words thrown back at her.

"I know that you are upset-", she began, not liking that she was now following him, pushed to the point of begging.

"I'm not upset, _Honoured_ _Elite_," John replied bitterly and clearly lying as he strode around the alarmed Ketra and stomped away across towards the exit to her quarters. "I think I'm thinking clearly for the first time since I met you."

What did that mean?

"Atlantis has benefitted greatly from working with the Elite and in trade with Athos and her trading partners that Father has introduced you to," she argued. "Do not damage your own people in seeking revenge on me."

He triggered open the door and stepped out in the public space of the corridor before the door had barely opened for him. Out there any raised voices might very well be overheard by any of the complex's staff that might be working in the living areas. Teyla had no doubt that John knew that and was using it to his advantage.

"Don't worry about that, Honoured Elite," he told her, "I'm _only_ thinking politically."

And with that he disappeared, heading down the corridor away from her quarters.

She stepped out into the corridor after him, watching his back retreating away from her. "John," she found herself calling to him with as loud a voice as she could risk would not carry far. "Do not take this out on Athos or your own people. This is only between us."

"Not anymore," he replied without looking back round at her.

No one kept their back to an Elite, no one on her own homeworld would be so disrespectful anyway.

She had definitely made the right decision to end this affair. Clearly he was not right to have around in any form.

She felt the absurd inclination to pick something up and throw it at his retreating back, but she resisted. That would be behaving as childishly as he was.

He reached the top of the staircase that would take him down to the lower level and out of sight.

He did look back at her now though, but the bitter anger was still there. "Have fun sleeping next to your Genii husband in his tightly starched uniform, _Honoured_ _Elite_," he told her, and then he was gone.

The urge to throw something after him rose again.

"Don't fall down any more holes," she shouted after him though, as loud as she could risk. "I won't be around to save you anymore."

She turned quickly back into her quarters, only to realise the door had shut behind her. She roughly jabbed at the control and it slid open far too slowly for her.

She stormed back into her quarters.

"Disrespectful, overly emotional man," she cursed. Ketra let out a nervous worried sound, but Teyla was too angry to console her yet. "I should never have bought him out of that slaver's cage!"

She spied the blossom potted plant that he had given her and Ketra, and in a sudden unthinking moment, she grabbed it up and threw it across her living space.

In the seconds it took the pot to fly through the air and hit the floor, scattering soil and blossoms over her carpet, tears were flowing from her eyes.

She wiped at them angrily, wishing away the pain that was now rising up in her throat, and with it a panic that she had perhaps shared her last ever words with John.

And hurtful and disrespectful they had been.

He did not understand what she was trying to achieve. Her sacrifice of marriage was to be honoured. She was doing this for the greater good of everyone.

"He cannot think beyond himself," she muttered out loud. "Or beyond Atlantis' walls. Better to be rid of him!"

Ketra's snout brushed cold and anxious against Teyla's hand, and she looked down through hazy tear-filled eyes to the dragon. She stroked a shaking palm over Ketra's shockingly deep blotched gray skin, the colour reflecting Ketra's mood.

"We are far better without him," Teyla whispered, wiping away her tears with her other hand.

Wishing away the feeling, and the knowledge, that she had thrown away the one man she had ever met who had touched her so deeply. So deeply as to have her losing her temper and throwing things.

She looked across at the fallen plant, the soil and blossoms scattered across the carpet and rug. Regretting her actions instantly, she feared she had damaged the plant.

That she had damaged far more.

00000  
TBC


	10. Turning Point

00000

**Chapter 10 – Turning Point**

Sitayi' face worried her. The flush of fever had departed some time ago, but in its place remained a cold stillness that worried Ouaou.

She feared that Sitayi' body, growing older as did her own, might no longer be able to survive the effects of a convergence.

Ouaou had often wished that she shared her sister's great gift, to see ahead, to know what was to come, but just as often had she witnessed the negative sides to Sitayi' gift. She had seen the near madness the gift had first brought when Sitayi had been a young girl. Then later, the effects of the torturous knowledge that her sister had had to come to terms with – that she knew who would betray her before they did, who would try to kill another, who would die too young. All seen already by her, felt by her, and yet beyond her control.

In her youth, Sitayi had tried at first to influence what she had seen, had tried to warn, advise, and even intervene in vital moments herself, but each time, whatever she had seen still came to pass. In fact, the fact that she had intervened had sometimes actually led to the outcome. It had been a heavy weight upon young shoulders, and a weight that had forced Sitayi to face eternal truths that few even three times her age had thought to consider. However, as horrible and difficult as it had been for her, it had, with time, turned Sitayi into an exceptional individual. Ouaou loved Sitayi dearly anyway, but she also greatly admired her sister's ability to remain calm in the face of horrors, to have become so wise and honoured.

Ouaou had been fortunate to watch her sister grow, watch her find her way with her gift, and be her sister's witness in turn. For even Sitayi, as wise and experienced as she was, needed someone to listen to her, to comfort and care for her while she witnessed the rest of the galaxy's future.

As a result, Ouaou knew things that no one else in the universe knew, other than Sitayi.

Yet, that knowledge had also taught her that the future was not quite so easy to predict as others believed, or feared. It felt to her sometimes as if the future almost had a life force of its own, which flexed and turned with the breeze of fate.

For though Sitayi had learnt through the worst ways that the future could not be changed by her intervention, she had also learnt that sometimes her own words said at the right moment, having already been foreseen by herself beforehand, could help shape a future. That her own life was a part of the interlaced complexity that was the future, and in that small way, Sitayi had found a way to influence gently, subtly, even if it was only to allay her own sense of responsibility to help others.

That skill, and her developed wisdom and insight that Ouaou could only faintly grasp from the outside, had turned Sitayi into one of the greatest seers their people had ever known. She was considered exceptionally skilled, even among the small number of other seers currently living. All of them sought her advice, her lessons on life, concentration, and skills as to how to work with their gift. Their people as a whole had been blessed with a wide variety of differing gifts, but to see the future was by far the most exceptional, and Sitayi the greatest of them all.

Yet, even Sitayi had no defence against a convergence. Such an event had only occurred a few times to Ouaou's knowledge, and only twice before she had been present at her sister's side as she was now.

The others times had not seemed as traumatic as this one, but perhaps that was because of the time passed since the last convergence. It had been decades ago, during the first fledgling days of the Alliance, when its raw fragile future had not been guaranteed. Worlds had been risking forces in secret, untrained and frightened, they had worked together to fight the Wraith as a unified group for the first time. The success of that venture had hung delicately in the balance and a convergence had torn through Sitayi. Yet, as Sitayi had emerged from that previous fever, her cheeks pale, her eyes had been bright. The future she had described afterwards had burned with potential, which Ouaou had now witnessed come to pass with her own eyes, and it was even more glorious than she had imagined. The Alliance had changed everything.

That convergence had led to great change, but it had also taken other seers' lives.

And now Ouaou feared that this one might take her sister's life. There was nothing that could be done to ensure Sitayi' survival, no one could influence the experience of living in too many simultaneous futures. All they could do was watch and wait.

But, the fever had broken some time ago now, and yet Sitayi had not come back to herself. That had not happened in the previous two convergences that Ouaou had witnessed. The best of healers had visited repeatedly, but they could do nothing but support Sitayi' body, they could not stop the convergence and its affects that came from a place no other skill could reach.

Sitayi was older now and it could be that the ravages of the convergence were too much. How much could one body take through such things? How much could one soul take?

There was nothing to do but wait.

To watch.

To pray.

Ouaou stroked a hand over her sister's pale clammy forehead, the full purple glow of health seeming a lifetime ago, her skin continuing to be the dull worrying pale lilac of illness. The colour of those near death...

Yet, a soft movement stirred under her palm, a soft letting go of breath.

Ouaou held still, watching her sister with such intensity that she realised she herself was not breathing.

She leant forward, leaning her cheek close to her Sitayi' lips, waiting for the soft breath against her skin that would confirm her sister still lived.

The last healer who had visited had told Ouaou that two other seers had already succumbed to the effects of this convergence.

The same fate could not befall Sitayi, not her beloved sister.

A soft movement of air ghosted across Ouaou's cheek, Sitayi' breath. Ouaou closed her eyes with relief, for now at least Sitayi still breathed.

Sitayi' forehead shifted faintly under her hand again.

Ouaou pulled back enough to look down at her sister's face. "Sitayi? Sister?" She called softly as she stroked Sitayi' forehead gently, willing her into consciousness.

Sitayi' eyelids flickered and slowly lifted.

Ouaou smiled, tears running down her cheeks. "Sitayi."

Only, as her sister's eyes appeared, her expression gathered into distress. Fear tormented Sitayi' pale face.

"They are coming," Sitayi whispered, her voice dry and fragile from ill use. "From the darkness previously hidden."

Ouaou felt a shiver run down her back, the rough words pulling at the dark future stories Sitayi had previously voiced to her.

"Not the enemy we fear?" She whispered. Why this future? Did it have to be this one?

Sitayi managed to nod slightly, her forehead crumpling further under Ouaou's hand. "They are moving."

Ouaou wished she could offer words of comfort for her sister, but what could she say? Who knew better than Sitayi of what was likely to come.

"But there may be hope," whispered Sitayi wearily.

The spark of hope was at least desperately welcome to Ouaou. She prayed that her sister was right, that hope could exist.

But would hope and prayer be enough?

"If he does not fall," Sitayi whispered, her eyes drifting closed. "He must not...alone in the dark, his discovery untold..." Sleep fell upon her as it did so heavily after a convergence.

Ouaou frowned at her beloved sister wishing there was something, anything that she could do. Yet, she feared all acts now were far beyond her and Sitayi' hands. If there was hope though...hope that the best of possible futures might come to pass.

The convergence was over, a future established, but which one would it be?

00000

John reached the foot of the Athosian staircase and stopped, his heart and head racing.

What had just happened?

He looked down at the thick Athosian rug under his boots, his laces pooled around his feet, like he was a teenager again thinking tying the things was uncool. He'd learnt pretty quick that there was a good reason to tie them up. He'd been stupid back then.

Not much had changed.

He was still just as stupid.

He gripped his jacket tighter in his fist, so angry and confused and...

He realised one of his pant legs was hitched up and that his fly wasn't even all the way up.

He needed to get presentable, just hide somewhere so he could deal with what the hell had just happened.

He looked around the small lobby, recalling that he had once used a restroom somewhere here.

Looking around nervously that someone might appear, he crossed the incense heavy lobby, running his hand along what looked like a seam in the fall wall. The door's trigger was on the far side. He jabbed at it and the small door slid aside to reveal the small Athosian restroom he remembered.

At least he could get something right today.

He shot inside the small room, dumping his jacket aside on a small table by the toilet as the door slid shut, giving him privacy. A basin sat on a bench was their version of a sink and he quickly thrust his hands under its delicate facet. Cool water rushed over his cupped hands. He splashed it up over his face, the cold a shock to his skin and just the snap to his senses that he needed.

He gasped into the cold flash, water dripping from his face as he stared down into the basin.

He felt shaky, his body reacting from the adrenaline.

And because of the hurting, twisting feeling in his chest and stomach.

Her last words were circling his head, along with other horrific snapshots of recalled words.

He shut his eyes tight, forcing some control.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. It almost felt surreal, but didn't the most shocking, violent moments of life always feel that way? He'd been in enough to recognise the feeling.

The water was still rushing around the basin, the sound of it running down the plughole a little too on point right now. He opened his eyes to the sight, wishing away the memory of her face, angry, pitiful for him, and then looking like she had been the one who'd been insulted.

He smacked his palms down on the cool hard edges of the basin, angry at her and himself.

She was going to get married tomorrow. To a Genii General.

He'd been so stupid. Always making the wrong decisions, getting himself into bad situations.

He waved a hand under the thin Athosian facet and stopped the water pouring down the plug. He set his faintly steadier hands back on the sides of the basin and looked up into a small, shell shaped mirror on the wall in front of him.

He needed to think.

Not focus on the worrying thought that he really had just been a passing fancy for her, a way to cement "good relations" with Atlantis.

And to think he'd been hoping she'd been feeling the same as him.

Why the hell did he choose the wrong women?

Why the hell did he keep getting himself into stupid situations?

Sumner was right – he didn't think first. He never should have kissed her that first time, never should have let his heart...

He grabbed one of the small towels folded up on a shelf by the shell mirror. He pressed the soft fluffy mass to his face, absorbing all the water that was drying his skin. If only he could take back all the stupid things he'd done in his life.

He'd thought he'd learnt his lesson well enough before.

Now he had just gone and shouted at an Elite warrior.

He rubbed the towel over his face and through his hair, running through what she'd said over and over, what he'd said back.

She'd been wearing that damned 'Elite mask' of hers, all in control and insulted by his questions. All political warrior, like what they had just done had meant nothing to her. All these past months meant nothing.

No, she'd been all Elite, just thinking about the Alliance. And John didn't fit into that anymore, into her "purely political" plans. He was out. Just like that.

Well, if it was none of his business anymore, then he'd make sure she'd see that. He would refuse to work with her again, not look her in the eye ever again. Maybe he'd ask Carter to reassign him, say he was missing the fieldwork for the two days a week he had been visiting Athos.

If Atlantis still had a future with Athos that was, now the damned Genii were going to be here. And what about things with the Elite?

He threw the damp towel into the small laundry basket beside the bench.

He needed to get out of here, start thinking about what all this was going to mean for Atlantis, since it was all about _politics_ after all.

Well, he could play that game too.

After all he was here to look out of Atlantis' interests, and they had just taken a major blow.

Determination fired up with the still burning anger, he crouched down and quickly did up his laces and adjusted his pant leg.

Standing back up, he properly secured his fly and checked his holster and belt. He reached for his jacket and pulled it on roughly, adjusting and flattening it down, then trying the same with his hair.

The overhaul was giving his focus, giving him time to push everything back, everything but the angry determination. He'd been an idiot, but there was time to make up for it. He needed to talk to Woolsey and the Colonels. The Genii were still a threat to Atlantis, and they were about to get a whole lot more powerful.

Ready to face the world outside the restroom again, he took a quick breath and triggered open the door.

Afraid for a second that she might be out in the lobby, he tensed up as the door slid aside. The lobby was empty.

He needed to get out of here, quick.

He hurried across the lobby's thick rugs, willing her not to appear. With her desperate pleas for him not to get too upset, like he was some lovesick puppy.

He stormed through the exit from the family area of the complex as it opened, past the guard on duty outside and headed down the long corridor at full military speed.

The sooner he got off Athos the better.

He checked his watch as he took the right turn at the end of the corridor, almost colliding with an Athosian woman carrying some plates. He apologised and then regretted it because he realised the posh china was probably for tomorrow's wedding.

He hurried on, darting around another woman with traitorous dishes and cups. He checked his watch again, properly noting the time. Had it really only been half an hour since he'd left Woolsey and the others? How could that be right?

He took another left turn, but paused, looking around, lost for a moment. Yes, this was the way; the vase here had the half vertical blue lines on it and large orange flowers in it. He carried on down the corridor, passing by other Athosians now, all carrying cutlery, potted plants, and some banners, all for the damn wedding.

He cut a sharp right, but turned back and continued back straight down the corridor, confused for a second which direction he was heading in. What that woman could do to him!

He recognised a junction up ahead, and was actually pleased to see the guards stationed outside the closed doors. He was back where he needed to be.

He slowed his speed slightly as he headed towards the entrance into the Tea Room, after all he didn't want to alarm the guards. They recognised him without comment, one opening the doors for him.

The relief at hearing Woolsey's voice told John just what a state he was in. He smoothed down the front of his jacket, his mind focusing a little more on where he was as he re-entered the Tea Room. He needed to be cool.

"...should be lovely," Woolsey was saying. He glanced up from his cup of Athosian tea with a smile as John approached. "Ah, Major Sheppard, good to have you back," he grinned. Clearly the political talk had been going well in here.

John didn't trust himself to reply so he just headed for the empty seat at the low table, the promise of sitting down for a second suddenly seeming a real good idea. He needed to think.

He sat down with practised skill on the small beanbag seat beside Zabetha, Ford across from him.

"I trust your meeting with Honoured Elite Emmagan went well?" Woolsey asked as John settled onto his beanbag.

How the hell was he supposed to answer that question? "Sure." Like a kick in the head.

His attention shifted to Torren sat at the head of the small table. The man's expression was closed, cautious.

He knew about John's relationship with Teyla. John was certain of that now.

John recalled Torren's long walk to the family area, all the words making total sense now. The guy was worried Atlantis was going to freak at the new Genii joining Torren and the Elite's family.

John had liked Torren until today. Now he hated him, had visions of the guy urging Teyla on to make her stupid marriage. No, no one forced Teyla into anything, but Torren was party to it. John could see the man's eyes studying him, worried from behind that poker face.

Just like Teyla when she had gotten all high and mighty.

While she had stabbed him in the back.

Of course it was all just _political_ to them.

John turned his attention to the teapots in the centre of the table as Woolsey started up his jabbering again. John reached for the one empty teacup left at the centre of the table. The cool china was oddly nice against his fingers.

"...we will be pleased to discuss it all tomorrow," Woolsey was saying, and the reference to tomorrow caught John's attention.

"Leader Torren was just telling us about Honoured Elite Emmagan's wedding ceremony tomorrow," Woolsey explained to him.

John clenched his teeth together forcefully and simply nodded.

"We have been invited to attend and it should present an excellent opportunity to meet some new faces in the Alliance," Woolsey continued, clearly looking forward to the nightmare tomorrow.

Did he say 'we'?

"I'm not sure if we'll be free tomorrow," John began.

"Nonsense," Woolsey replied immediately, his smile strained as he glanced aside to Torren. "We would not miss such an important occasion, especially if it will be as lovely as your wedding ceremony, Lady Zabetha."

"We'll have to see if the team can be spared," John argued. Woolsey was stepping over the line if he thought he could make that kind of call.

Woolsey looked daggers at him. "I'm sure it will be fine."

"Still I'll have to clear it with both the Colonels," John pushed, but he already knew that Sumner had his team earmarked for the next check in with one of the refugee groups tomorrow. Sumner had insisted that the Athosian visits would never interfere with his schedule. On this John was certain he could trust in the Colonel's stubbornness.

And there was no damn way John was going to actually be at Teyla's marriage ceremony.

"If it is a problem for the rest of your team, then just you and I can attend," Woolsey insisted, his eyes boring into John. "After all, Athos is so safe," he added to Torren, the smooching making John's stomach turn.

He turned his attention back down onto the china cup in his hand.

The sight of her stubborn, angry face replayed in his head.

God, it really was over.

"...the Offering Ceremony will be first," Torren was saying. "During which it is likely that only one or two will officially make an offer for my daughter's hand."

"Only one or two?" Woolsey asked. "I find that hard to believe." God, he really was laying it on thick with Torren today.

"The process of deciding who shall offer for someone's hand in a Political Marriage is quite involved," Torren replied. "The others who wish to place offers of marriage negotiate among their number long before the ceremony, exchanging trades and agreements to remove themselves from the running. Eventually usually only one or two people remain to put forward their offers during the Offering Ceremony."

John glanced up from his empty cup. They bartered for the right to make an offer to marry Teyla? Like she was some piece of meat that only the highest bidders could win?

"Then my daughter will make her choice out of those final offers."

"But you're only expecting one final offer tomorrow," John found himself saying. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zabetha glance at him worriedly. "Right?" John added with a more polite tone and an attempt at a smile.

Torren met his eyes directly. "Most likely, though there could still be a last minute offer."

"Can't imagine any of the Alliance going up against the Genii," John found himself arguing. Ford and Cadman noticeably tensed at hearing the news.

"Perhaps," Torren replied.

After all Athos needed its strong new ties.

Torren looked back at him with a level gaze, but the former caution John had seen in the man's expression now looked disgustingly close to sympathy.

"What if she doesn't like any of the finalists?" Ford asked, cutting through the moment.

Torren looked away to Ford, sparing John from having to glare at that regretful look any longer.

John turned the small china cup between his fingers as Torren explained that it was rare that a Political Marriage was not decided during the Offering Ceremony.

"Usually there is some time between the Offering Ceremony and the Marriage Ceremony, but occasionally they are on the same day, as it will be tomorrow. My honoured daughter is due to leave for a vital mission tomorrow eve and so the Marriage Ceremony will immediately follow the Offering Ceremony."

So she was getting married and then running off on some big mission. He wondered if she would have her new Genii husband in tow. Not that he cared.

He didn't care that a "vital mission" probably meant dangerous. He'd probably not even hear if something happened to her, once he got himself reassigned off the Athos duty. He didn't care.

He set the empty teacup down onto the tabletop, suddenly feeling really tired, all the way deep down to his bones.

He just knew then that he wasn't going to be able to get out of tomorrow. As if anything was going to go his way. He was going to have to stand and watch her publically 'decide' to go with her Genii offer.

The Genii and Athos, and the Elite...

What would that mean if Kolya made another attempt on John's life? Would the Elite side with the Genii? Would they come to Kolya's defence if he was actually working with Cowen's consent?

Elite storming Atlantis...

The spout of a teapot came into view above John's cup and he watched as warm golden tea flowed down into it. He looked round to see Zabetha set the pot down and gently push the cup closer to his hand. He glanced up at her face and she smiled softly.

It was a smile that was achingly similar to Teyla's right now.

But it was the look in her eyes that really hurt. Pity and offered support.

He looked away to the cup as he picked it up.

He wished it held something stronger. He wondered what would happen if he got blind drunk when he got back to the city. Maybe he'd be too hung-over and a possible embarrassment to come back here to watch the wedding tomorrow. To come back and watch his heart being crushed. Crushed under the heel of a Genii.

But then, not coming back would be letting them win. Would make it seem as if he couldn't handle it.

It had just been an affair.

A brief thing; easily thrown away. Apparently.

He picked up the teacup and downed the warm spice in one go.

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TBC


	11. A Plan Forward

**Note**: Thank you kindly to those who sent reviews and messages. I can't directly reply to those who aren't logged into FF, but thank you to everyone who sent a message. You keep me going X I'm glad people are enjoying the drama and angst - did I mention there would be angst? ;) To continue, I present a nice chunky chapter for a Sunday.

00000

**Chapter 11 - A Plan Forward**

To say that tensions were high in the room didn't exactly capture the level of stress around Seeal.

Toshka's denuded computer core sat in the midst of a tangle of cables and wires in the small room. Around three sides of it, techs were sat in frustrated silence as they worked to get the computer core to make any sense to the mass of tablets analysing it. The far side of the cluttered table was rather like the front of the stage to this little stress inducing scene, the audience clearly not enjoying themselves as they watched the techs.

She glanced across the spread of people watching, all just as frustrated as the techs, but probably three times as bored.

If she had thought a year ago, no, even a month ago, that she would be sat in a room with some of the most powerful and influential in the Alliance, she would have laughed herself silly. Well, maybe not laughed, but she would have found the person suggesting this really amusing and just plain stupid.

Yet, here she was, previous Dreamstation Security Lead and Creass' bodyguard, and watcher of some of the most criminal sought after in the galaxy, and now she was sat across from members of the Alliance's Military Council and Elite warriors.

She had repeatedly reflected on the crazy turn her life had taken these past weeks, but never before had it struck her so forcefully as right now.

If Creass knew where she was right now, he would probably throw the biggest tantrum of his life.

And speaking of tantrums, she watched as Ronan Dex began pacing across the length of the room again. He'd been doing that on and off, pacing impatiently, huffing and puffing with frustration. It wasn't exactly helping the techs sat in the chairs alongside her.

Not that they were all that happy to be sat beside her.

Half of them clearly thought she was somehow involved with Toshka and this crazy computer, and the rest looked just plain annoyed at her having been brought in because they were clearly failing.

The only tech who had seemed pleased to see her was Nevaeh, who Seeal had already encountered before during Karthig's little attempt to blow them all up. You'd think having helped save everybody on ship would have ingratiated her somewhat with the rest of the techs around her, but only Nevaeh had said anything nice or talked to her in any way other than to complain.

It wasn't lost on Seeal that she had been given the seat at the furthest corner of the table on which Toshka's computer sat as it sulkily refused to communicate with anything. Sat in the tightest and most limited space around the table, Seeal not only had to put up with the steaming hot water urn on the side behind her, but anyone who wanted to help themselves to said hot water or any of the snacks laid out alongside it, had to squeeze in close behind her, always bumping her chair. It was the worst place to sit for comfort, but it also was the worst place if you wanted to get out of the room quickly and efficiently in an emergency. Everybody was going to get out before her.

Which was presumably exactly why she had been sat here.

However, the seat actually afforded her the best view of the entire room. From here she could see everyone's faces around the table and all of the Elite and Councillors watching.

They all looked equally bored and generally annoyed, with Dex having the highest agitated state of them all. It wasn't all that unusual for a Satedan really. There hadn't been a lot of Satedans on Dreamstation, and though they were often quick tempered, as a people they were pretty smart about when not to start a fight.

Morrow, Dex's female's uncle was one such man. He had been a regular on Dreamstation since it had opened ten years ago, and probably still went to the station now, though she suspected her comment to Dex might change that in the future. As a Satedan, Morrow apparently wasn't all that physically skilled, not having managed to advance in the planet's military or industrial labour sectors, and instead had found himself enjoying a very different type of risk taking. He probably had made as much currency as he had lost in the gambling halls on Dreamstation, but what he'd won, he'd just as quickly spent down in the lower levels enjoying the company of any number of prostitutes. He hadn't caused any trouble for security, but he had been one she had kept a close eye on. After all, Satedans had that quick temper to watch out for.

The computer tablet on Seeal's lap bleeped and vibrated gently, reporting the results of the latest attempt to handshake with Toshka's core.

"Damn all the Ancestors," one of the male techs cursed having seen the results on his own tablet.

Seeal tapped open the programme she had helped write and altered two small pieces of coding and sent the programme running again. She set the tablet onto the tiny space she had at the corner of the table in front of her and reached down through the awkward limited space to pick up her other tablet leant against one chair leg.

Whoever had written the computer code for Toshka's computer was a mad genius. She'd never seen anything like this. Whoever it was had completely re-written basic coding laws and had somehow messed Wraith, Ancestor, Standard Alliance tech language, and another as yet unidentified language into one computer, all running together. It shouldn't work, yet here it was, working away. It was exceptional work.

She frowned at her second tablet, which she had synched in with Sythus' central computer; Or rather, one of the Sythus' main computers, because she had noticed some time ago that they had three running separately. One of them was almost entirely dedicated to communications, sensors, and interfacing, and the techs had gotten it running analysis of the core's new language from the start, but so far the two computers weren't getting along. Once they got a handle on the language then she could easily sort out a patch so they would talk, but for now, the Elite interfacing computer wasn't even able to work with the basic symbols used by the core and wasn't having any luck in deciphering any rules to the language.

She frowned at the continuing attempts. There was no doubt in her mind that they would crack the code, but it was clearly going to take time and apparently time was not on their side, if the grumpy huffy Satedan Military Councillor was any indication.

The tablet in front of her vibrated again, but the results were just as negative. She reached out and began adjusting the programme again.

"Seeal, how is it going?" Edfu asked from the other end of the table, where he had been looking over Nevaeh's shoulder as she worked. The man, one of the Elite's premier staff in charge of their own security, was an interesting individual.

"Same as," Seeal replied as she altered the programme code.

"Surely it's time to do more with it," the tech to her right aggressively muttered.

"Small changes are the way to understand this coding," Seeal replied calmly.

"Small changes could take all night," the man replied.

"Isn't it night already?" Nevaeh asked from the other end of the table.

"Maybe you just don't want us to get into this thing," Mr Angry Tech uttered again from Seeal's right. She had been told his name, but she'd decided not to bother remembering it.

"I was the one who helped find this computer in the first place," she pointed out as she sent the programme running again, attempting another gentle handshake with Toshka's computer core.

"Or lead us to it," Mr Angry Tech whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I suggest we all take a breath and take a small break if you need it," Edfu ordered calmly.

Mr Angry Tech huffed, almost as loudly as the Satedan was doing, and had the sense enough to shut up.

Seeal glanced over at Edfu as her programme ran. In the world of security, she tended to classify Leads in one of three groups. One shouted, cursed and threatened, the second kept strict rules and commanded respect by example, and the third worked by being ingratiating and kind to people. Seeal was of the second group and Edfu was clearly of the third. For the last six hours she had been here, he had worked along behind the back of the tech's chairs, watching them work, helping with suggestions and bolstering the techs' morale with supporting empty words and calming orders.

He nodded down at Nevaeh's work, one hand touching the woman's shoulder as he smiled and moved on to the next tech. He worked by encouraging people, being their friend, and saying probably just about anything to play to their ego.

She didn't like that approach, never had, but clearly it worked for Edfu. Perhaps it was the way he dealt with having to work with Elite warriors all the time, and surely being in the position Edfu was, he had to be damn good at his job.

What also clearly helped Edfu in his friendly approach were his looks. He was quite standardly handsome, being a good height, with strong shoulders, square jaw and a full head of hair that partly fell down across his forehead. He had a wide beaming smile with full lips and suspiciously white teeth.

Seeal had never met anyone whose smile could be described as "beaming". She'd heard about such people, but she'd never met one before. She could see its power, how the smile had lifted Nevaeh and flushed her cheeks slightly. Even the male techs around the table seemed to respond to the man's natural charisma. Out of the entire room, Edfu was the most positive and active, constantly moving around the table.

Well, except for Dex perhaps. She looked back to the Satedan, watching him reach the far end of the room, turn and start to stomp back again. He'd gone out of the room briefly with two of the other Councillors and the Pelydrian Elite, but unlike them, Dex had returned quickly. She suspected his return had more to do with his impatience and distrust of her, judging by his frequent angry stares, but it wasn't really helping the stressed techs with their work.

She rolled her neck slightly, working out some kinks, as she watched the Satedan pacing. If he thought his puffing and stomping would intimidate her like it did the techs then he couldn't be further from the truth. She found it faintly amusing that such a famous lead Satedan warrior could be so stereotypical Satedan. She had always assumed that their leaders developed better control of their trigger tempers and impulsive behaviour. But then, if she remembered correctly, Dex was one of the youngest commanders Satedan had ever produced. He had risen through the ranks like his backside was on fire. Maybe it was, maybe that was why he was so impatient.

Not that everyone else in the room wasn't as well.

Actually...

She shifted her gaze off the pacing Dex to settle on Oneakka. He had been stood in almost exactly the same place in exactly the same position for hours. Boots planted shoulder-width apart, arms crossed, he hadn't moved. She had noticed the other Elite, Halling, lean in and talk with him occasionally, as well as the Elite with the fancy blue streak to his hair and down his armour. Blue Streak, Seifer, liked her about as much as Dex did, but again it didn't bother her. Blue Streak was currently leant against the wall behind Oneakka and looked like he was napping standing up. She suspected Elite could do that. Maybe Oneakka was actually napping while he stood there so still.

His attention was on her, his unusual uniformly blue eyes meeting her gaze, his right eye seeming slightly brighter against the scars and dark tattoos across the right side of his face. He lowered his gaze to the computer in front of her and back up again – a clear message that she should be working and not looking around the room.

She frowned at him, making out that she hadn't understood his meaning.

He narrowed his eyes with one of his lower level intimidation glares. She was starting to be able to read the differences between the glares now, probably because she had seen so many of them directed at her. He had a whole range of glares, which she had started to categorise by how pissed off he was. She wondered if there were so many because that was his main form of expression. He could probably frown about anything, and probably thought that a good glare and his silent big intimidate routine could get him anything he liked. To his credit, it did appear to be quite effective from what she'd seen, except with her. When he brought out the glares, she just wanted to irritate him.

She frowned further at him, tilting her head as if asking a question, pretending that she still didn't understand him.

His shoulders lifted and lowered ever so slightly, indicating a heavy sigh, which she suspected he exaggerated for her across the room. He gave one of his 'I know you're messing with me' glares, with an extra addition of 'stop it or there'll be trouble' frowning glares at the end.

She exaggerated her own sigh as she looked away, going back to watching Dex and his pacing. However, the tablet on the table corner bleeped and vibrated again. Three of the techs lent forward to look at their own interfaces to see the results at the same time as she looked.

Negative.

Typical. She opened up the programme and began to make another change.

"This is hopeless," another tech muttered quietly. "We won't get into this thing in time."

"Where one has will and determination, there is a way," Edfu offered, equally as quietly, the conversation not drifting to the watching Elite and Councillors.

"We have all the will and skill here," Mr Angry Tech put in, "but that will not make this job any quicker or easier. If she," he pointed rudely at Seeal next to him, "their precious Specialist, can't get into it, then we have no chance in the timeframe set."

Seeal debated about jabbing her elbow into the man's side, but decided that it wouldn't be wise, and would break her promise to Oneakka and Tyoosi that she would 'behave' herself.

"_She_," Seeal stressed, "by which I assume you are speaking about me, and thank you for calling me a Specialist, it makes me feel so important." She smiled artificially at the man who frowned back.

His wasn't a complicated and insightful kind of glare like Oneakka used, it was just a plain stupid angry frown.

"But if all you are going to bring to the table is unhelpful pessimism and a bad attitude, then I'm surprised you got to the position you have on this ship," she told him.

Angry Tech turned in his seat to face her in the tiny space they had at the table, but Edfu was abruptly behind their chairs, his hands falling on each of their shoulders.

Seeal frowned at the physical contact, not something she encouraged from anyone, and especially not from a man she had known all of a handful of hours. She resisted the urgent pull her shoulder free. Edfu wasn't a threat.

"We are all tired and frustrated by this coding," Edfu began, "but as soon as we start turning on each other, then the real enemy wins."

Seeal frowned at that crazy wisdom, but she understood his intervention and was a little bit annoyed at herself for having let Angry Tech get to her. Maybe she did need a break.

"I suggest that we take a short recess, all step away from this for a few moments and refresh our thinking," Edfu suggested. His warm hand squeezed her shoulder slightly and then let go.

Movement on the far side of the table drew Seeal's attention. Dex had noticed the conversation and was fast approaching.

"Heads up," Nevaeh warned the other techs quietly.

"Progress?" Dex demanded at Edfu as he arrived on the other side of the stage that was the computer core.

"Not yet, Councillor," Edfu replied calmly and politely. "We are working as fast as we can."

"Work faster," Dex ordered, and not for the first time.

"We shall, Councillor," Edfu promised artificially.

Seeal's tablet announced another failure to talk with the core. She began altering the programme again as Edfu and Dex had their conversation over her.

"I think it would be wise for us all to have a short break," Edfu suggested.

"There are no breaks in a war," Dex argued loudly. The techs all shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while Seeal kept tapping in changes into her tablet.

"Fresh eyes are important, honoured Councillor," Edfu pushed with his soft voice of persuasion. "The mind is like a muscle rather than a weapon, it needs time to replenish, let connections form."

Dex snorted loudly as he turned away. "I say we drag Toshka in and get him to open it in front of everyone."

"We cannot arrest him without evidence," one of the other Military Councillors replied.

"He's guilty," Dex stated.

"Clearly, since he is using such concealment in this computer system," the green-haired female Councillor agreed calmly, "yet we live in a society of law and must follow the rules of the Alliance. What point is there in society if we do not keep to the principles of law?"

"We are warriors," Dex bit back.

"Yes, and some could argue that this matter is therefore beyond our mandate," she replied.

"Toshka is a traitor to the Alliance," Oneakka put into the conversation, which were his first words in awhile. Seeal glanced up towards him. He hadn't changed his cross-armed stance, but was looking over at the councillor. "The Elite defend the Alliance, from whatever form its enemy takes."

"The High Council could argue that it is the mandate of the Elite to fight the Wraith alone, whereas it is Enforcement and Division's mandate to investigate this breach of law within the Alliance."

"Then why are you here?" Oneakka bluntly asked of the Military Councillor.

Seeal smiled faintly as she returned her attention to the tablet and sent off the programme once more. She picked up her other tablet again. One of the code's symbols was displayed as the Sythus computer analysed it. Seeal frowned at the symbol. It was Wraith in origin and somewhat familiar for some reason.

The answer was displayed to the side - It was one of the symbols that had been scrawled on the inside of the computer core's casing when it had been removed. Or rather torn off in pieces.

"The Military Council supports the Elite wholeheartedly and take Toshka's official complaint about you seriously," the female Councillor was replying to Oneakka. "We will not see him lower the Elite."

"He can try," Oneakka replied with quiet promise.

Seeal pulled forward the main menu of the tablet in her hand, calling up the initial report on the coding that she had been given. Inside the report were the scans of the inside of the casing. She opened the images up and quickly found the one with the specific Wraith symbol. She zoomed into it within the photo and frowned. Something about it had bothered her the first time she had looked at these images, and something worried at her again now. There was something that her subconscious had picked up and she studied the images closely again, trying to understand what bothered her about it.

"We are running out of time," another councillor was saying from across the room. "Toshka is following official legal channels and has already issued another complaint. If we are to hold his computer system, we need to officially state the reasoning why."

"To given such specifics would compromise our investigation," Elite Halling explained.

Seeal imagined that was true enough. She almost smiled to think of the many powerful individuals across the Alliance who would freak if they knew the Elite had a direct copy of Dreamstation's database. All those sneaky contacts, shipments, and all other manner of 'inappropriate' behaviour that would likely be discovered would have them running for their lives. Toshka was one of the most powerful, non-Council related, businessmen in the Alliance, and if he could make a legal standing against the Elite and their investigation then it would set a precedent for the others to fall behind. They'd all be watching this very carefully, hoping they would be able to sleep soundly in the future.

"We cannot hold this computer for much longer without the action becoming illegal," the green-haired woman stated. "Clearly it is going to take far longer than expected to break into his computer. I suggest we pass it to Enforcement, let them work upon it with us, it will give us more time by passing it to them."

"It doesn't leave the Sythus," Oneakka stated stubbornly. The man clearly had control issues.

Zooming in tighter on the photo that bothered her, Seeal squinted at the image, but it didn't help. She took the image back to its original size and tried squinting again at the handwritten symbols from the inside of the casing. They were written at an odd angle, implying to her that they had been scrawled in once the core had been set into Toshka's wall. Someone had perhaps wanted the symbols as prompts to work with the code, which supported her suspicion that Toshka hadn't written the code himself. He wasn't that smart from what she remembered, and this would take a true genius with a lot of... There were some odd tiny shadows in the image.

"If we are to investigate Toshka, the core will have to leave the Sythus," the councillor was arguing with Oneakka. "You are going to the Lantana battle in a day's time and cannot take it with you."

"We will break into it before that," Oneakka promised with a determined confidence that he couldn't actually feel. Seeal had the horrible feeling that he was looking at her as he had said it, but she kept her eyes on the strange little shadows in the image.

"With all due respect, Honoured Elite..." the woman replied gently.

The shadows were small indentations...

"That core stays here until we have what we need about Toshka," Oneakka pushed.

Seeal put both her tablets on the corner of the table hurriedly and looked around her. The actual pieces of the casing were here somewhere, because she recalled Edfu had idly pointed them out to her when he had given her the tablet, telling her the scans of the symbols were already uploaded.

There, behind her on the side, by the snacks and drinks, the scattered broken pieces of the core's casing were stacked to one side. She slid out from her chair and moved awkwardly through the tiny space behind the tech chairs to reach the casing pieces. She began picking through them until she found one with some symbols scrawled across it.

"Then we arrest Toshka," Dex was stating, "he can be held for hours without charge."

"The High Council will not stand for that," Edfu put in.

She held up the broken piece of casing and then found another piece with symbols on it. Now she was looking at them with her own eyes, the indentations were obvious. She pawed through the rest of the casing pieces to find more, already suspecting what she would find now.

"The High Council have no say on military matters," Dex was arguing.

"Toshka and his supporters in the High Council could very well argue that this is not a military matter, but one of internal security," Edfu replied in a very professionally careful tone.

Seeal laid out three pieces of the casing beside each other and the small circles, indentations in the thick metal sheet, lined up into two wavy lines through a partial circle of more tiny indentations. The last part of the circle would be on another piece, but she didn't need to see it, she had what she needed.

Six damn hours she had been at this, and how long had the Elite techs been at it?

"Betrayals to the Alliance _are_ a military matter," someone was stressing.

"He worked with The Traitor," Oneakka put in, "she worked with the Wraith on at least one occasion, therefore, it is under our mandate."

Seeal turned round amidst that shaky logic and held up two of the casing pieces.

"Why didn't anyone show me these?" She demanded loudly of the room, drawing all their attention to her and abruptly ending the heated debate.

All the angry eyes focused on the two casing pieces in her hands.

"We did," Mr Angry Tech replied to her from his dejected seat next to Edfu. "It was in the initial report, didn't you read it?" He asked sarcastically.

She ignored that stupid statement. "No one showed me these markings," she clarified and suddenly the tension in the room shifted to tense interest.

Edfu stepped up next to her, his eyes on the casing pieces. "The symbols?"

"No, these," she explained as she put the pieces together to show the lines of indentations.

"They are simply the metal merchant's mark of whoever made the casing for Toshka. We ran it against all known symbols, but had no luck. We assumed it is from beyond our border."

Seeal shook her head as she handed him the casing pieces. "No, it's from well within your border." Wraith shit, she should have thought about him. "I know who made this computer," she told the room, "and I can take you straight to him."

She took great satisfaction in the stunned silence that followed as they all stared at her.

"Who?" Oneakka asked a second later, finally moving from his fixed position to stride across the room towards her.

She grabbed up her jacket from the back of her abandoned chair and squeezed around behind the shocked techs. She glared at the core as she did, annoyed with herself for not realising who it was who would be able to make this piece of exceptional coding. Only a few people she had met, or had heard about, would be clever and obsessive enough to be able to make this, but she hadn't thought of Malaca as being responsible. Like Edfu, she had incorrectly assumed the person responsible would be from outside the Alliance. She'd been as stupid as Angry Tech.

She pulled on her jacket as she moved around the table. "The man you're after is a computer genius of an entire new level, but he keeps well below the radar of anything illegal," she began as she moved towards the approaching Oneakka. "He works on a Manarian hub station, working on the Alliance communication network as his day job, but outside those hours he's well known in the right circles to enjoy 'tinkering' with anything computer based."

"And you didn't think to mention him before now?" Oneakka accused. Admittedly she was annoyed at herself for not having thought of Malaca, but she wasn't about to confess that to Oneakka and the others.

"I know so many geniuses," she told him with an exaggerated smile, "it's difficult to keep track of all of them." It was actually true enough.

She frowned at the core again. "Admittedly, I didn't think he'd gotten this good, but it goes with the style of the man."

"Which hub station is he on?" Oneakka demanded. She considered telling him to ask more nicely, but held back in front of the Military Councillors.

"One of their main observation and repair communication hubs, out in what you call Sector 18, I believe."

Oneakka glanced at Halling beside him, and well he should because they would know precisely which station now. A station that had been part built and owned by a 'friend' of theirs – Saoka.

"The Sythus has to leave for Athos to be present for Emmagan's ceremony tomorrow," Halling said thoughtfully to Oneakka.

"There's an orbital station Portal close enough over Manaria, we can get to the hub and back before then, and if not, we can use the Portal to go straight to Athos and meet the Sythus there," Oneakka replied.

"I am on familiar terms with many in Manarian security," Edfu put in from behind Seeal's right shoulder. "I volunteer to assist, Honoured Elite."

Oneakka nodded towards him and then looked back to Halling. "I'll handle it with Edfu-"

"You're going to need me there," Seeal put in quickly.

"And Seeal," Oneakka continued without a beat and she almost smiled.

"She's not going," Dex interrupted abruptly, stepping up aggressively into the circle of conversation.

Seeal braced herself for another in-your-face Dex-style confrontation. She turned to face the Satedan directly, her chin up.

"Councillor," Edfu replied first though as he moved to her side. "Seeal knows the man, can identify what might be there that would be helpful, and can hopefully gain the information we need from him without a loud incident."

"Just grab him and bring him in," Dex told Edfu.

"So far all we know about this man is that he possibly constructed a new advanced computer code – hardly illegal," Edfu replied logically.

"Toshka wouldn't need this kind of code if he wasn't hiding something," Dex argued.

"Toshka could argue that the coding was required to conceal his business interests from his competitors, and there is no evidence that this Malaca is a criminal for creating this code" Edfu argued, rather bravely in facing Dex.

Dex all but snarled at her. "And if she's working with him?"

"She's not," Oneakka put in unexpectedly. Seeal glanced at him in surprise.

"Prove it," Dex challenged Oneakka.

Oneakka looked at her. "You lie, you never get your clean record and you're never free again, ever." And didn't he always know how important that was to her. She nodded her reluctant agreement. "Are you involved in this computer code?"

"Nope," she replied simply. "And I never worked with Toshka directly, just made sure he didn't cause any trouble on Dreamstation."

Oneakka looked back at Dex, apparently happy with her word now. Dex frowned heavily though, his hands flexing at his sides. She held her ground, but kept her vision wide, kept her awareness on those fists.

"Then I'm coming too, to keep an eye on her," Dex decided. Oh great.

"Having a member of the Military Council present could be very useful, legally speaking," Edfu considered, not really helping to Seeal's mind.

"You won't need to push Malaca hard," she explained to them. "All he cares about is the work of playing with computer tech and code. Threaten that freedom and he'll talk plenty." Which sounded annoying familiar after Oneakka's little challenge.

"I will stay here," Halling put in, the decision apparently made, "if you are not back in three standard hours, then we'll head to Athos and meet you there by Portal."

Oneakka nodded once and turned away. "We're wasting time then."

And just like that, they were off on another unexpected raid.

Seeal drew her eyes away from Dex, needing to follow Oneakka, but she wasn't all that willing to turn her back on the Satedan. She'd have to though, because he had the power here and she would bet all the currency she had that he'd never turn his back to her.

She had other ways of getting an upper hand though, ways to annoy him in return for his aggressive suspicion.

"You'll love a fieldtrip with us. On the last mission, we destroyed an entire building," she told Dex with a forced smile before she purposefully turned her back to him and strode after Oneakka

"And went for a nice swim," she added as she headed across the small room and out the open doorway, Oneakka marching ahead down the corridor.

"You destroy a station and you'll swim in vacuum," Dex replied, Edfu at his side as they followed her.

"True enough," she had to reply, quietly. She had understood the less than subtle threat.

She lengthened her stride, drawing closer to the relatively improved safety of being closer to Oneakka rather than the Satedan.

Yet again she had to shake her head at the turn of events in her life. When had keeping close to Oneakka's heels become her preferred place?

000000

"I still do not see the problem," Woolsey argued from the seat to John's right. "The Genii are an integral part of the Alliance. Political Marriages are a mainstay within the Alliance, it's one of the main vehicles by which they created and maintain the Alliance in the first place."

John almost gapped at the guy. It was like he hadn't heard anything John had said in his report to the two Colonels. They had gotten out of Tjaru as fast as John could push politeness. It had been hard because Woolsey hadn't wanted to leave, because he had been too busy having fun talking weddings and trade opportunities with Torren.

Because apparently trade and politics was all life was about.

"If Athos and the Genii Confederation solidify their long history of trade with this marriage, it could only strengthen our position with regard to the Genii," Woolsey went on. "As I have always said, Athos presents nothing but an opportunity for us."

"And we just forget all about what the Genii have done?" John asked exasperated with the man.

Woolsey glanced at him out the corner of his eyes, most of his attention directed to Colonel Carter across the desk. Sumner, as usual, preferred to stand towards the back of the office as he listened. John glanced round at his commanding officer now, knowing at least on this subject the Colonel would back him up. Sumner was frowning down at Woolsey's back, ignoring or not seeing John's look. John looked back round to Woolsey and his impeccably pressed tie.

"The incidents we have had with the Genii in the past have been attributed to one individual, Kolya," Woolsey replied. "You're own reports confirm that."

"They stormed into this city, killed six of our people, and tried to take the city for themselves," John reminded the idiot.

"Kolya was acting alone-"

"That's not what I saw when they were hunting me through the city trying to kill me while they had Elizabeth and McKay hostage," John replied hotly.

"It was a force led solely by Kolya," Woolsey amended.

"Of course Cowen was going to say that," John interrupted quickly. "Kolya had plenty of support about to follow him through the Gate at his call."

"Cowen and his Government maintain that he acted under his own volition, that he usurped military forces to bring here without permission. Forces, which I need not remind you, we killed by shutting down the wormhole."

"All the more reason why Cowen might still hate us," John pointed out quickly.

"Cowen made it clear that Kolya acted alone," Woolsey repeated, "and as we know, he has been excommunicated from the Confederation-"

"No," John corrected, "first they said he was dead, and only once Kolya reared his ugly head again did they start saying he's excommunicated."

"Which is somewhat understandable from a political point of view. Kolya's reappearance is no doubt a source of embarrassment to the Genii, making it public that he was able to escape justice," Woolsey replied annoyingly. "Fortunately, both our sides agreed to move on from the incidence, which was years ago now-"

"And what about the Genii that climbed over my balcony in the middle of the night to try to kill me _last week_?" John demanded, trying to control his rising temper.

"That was an unfortunate incident," Woolsey replied with a look that was all exaggerated sympathy.

"_Unfortunate_?" John repeated sarcastically.

"But the individual concerned was not a member of the Genii Confederation, though born Genii he grew up on another planet and we know from his own confession that he became associated with only Kolya."

John stared at Woolsey. Whose side was he on? He was just about ready to do anything to get in on some trade agreements. Just like Torren and Teyla.

John worked to keep a lid on temptation to pick something up and throw it, preferably at Woolsey. He had called this meeting as soon as he had gotten back to the city, but he realised now that he should have had a break first. It would have given him some time to regroup first.

"We've had other incidents with the Genii on other non-Alliance worlds since Kolya's incursion into the city," Colonel Carter added, and John nodded in grateful agreement.

"I've read all those reports, Colonel," Woolsey turned to her, "The Genii made no direct aggressive actions, and no shots have been fired to date."

"So only once a shot has been fired are you happy they're a problem?" John asked. "So if that guy had actually shot me, would you have been happy then?"

"Your own report from the Elite said that the Genii government had backed the non-aggression treaty with us so as to appear strong to their own people," Woolsey argued back. "Do not confuse single individuals' actions with the entire Genii Confederation population."

"They're Genii," John protested.

"And does that therefore mean that everything _you_ do reflects the exact same attitudes as everyone back on Earth?" Woolsey challenged.

John looked away, angry and feeling he was losing his point.

He needed some coffee. Or maybe that beer he had been wishing for back in Tjaru.

"It was pretty clear to me that the Genii Ambassador here for the treaty talks knew more than he was letting on when Kolya's name came up," John pushed.

"I agree with the Major," Sumner abruptly put in, surprising the hell out of John even though he had hoped the Colonel would be on side. "Representative Hulte was trouble."

"And if you recall," Woolsey argued over his shoulder to Sumner. "At that time, Cowen provided us with all the information we requested on the would-be assassin, and when we handed him over, Cowen sent a personal message of apology that the assassin was of Genii birth."

"Yes, he did," Carter replied from the other side of her desk, drawing all their attention back to her. "But, he had to." John nodded in agreement.

"Either way, in the last two years, the Genii have not acted in anyway aggressively towards us, minor disagreements over territory aside," Woolsey replied, looking like he was getting frustrated with the discussion now. It made John happy to finally see the man getting rattled. "I do not see why the Genii having stronger ties with Athos, our primary ally in the Alliance, and the Elite will cause us any problems," Woolsey concluded.

"We know Cowen's barely holding onto his throne," John explained. "The Elite confirmed as much." Or rather Teyla had told him quietly in his quarters, but that didn't change the facts. "And Kolya is working at pushing him out completely. What happens if Cowen is overthrown and Kolya takes control of the Genii Confederation?"

Just the thought of it made John's skin crawl. If it happened, then he'd probably be moving back to Earth pretty quick.

"You think Kolya's going to forget about getting his hands on this city?" John pushed. "He wanted to murder me to destabilise the treaty talks, what do you think he'll do if he rises to power?"

"It is highly unlikely that he will-" Woolsey started.

"That's not the information I've received from the Elite, and from what we've seen ourselves," John started hotly. "If the Genii get into bed with Athos and the Elite, whose side do you think they'll be on if Kolya attacks the city?"

"I am certain Leader Torren would not stand for that-"

"He won't be able to do anything about it," John protested. "Sure he'll make noises, maybe withhold some tava bean shipments, but the Genii won't care. Not once they have this city."

"There's no evidence that Kolya still wants the city," Carter put in.

John looked round at her. "Why wouldn't he? He'll have resources that we can only dream of to attack us with. We already know there are plenty in the High Council who don't like that we're in the city in their galaxy. You think many of them will protest all that long if Kolya gets his hands on this amount of technology and weaponry to fight the Wraith?"

Carter angled her head in partial agreement. "They'll want him to hand the city straight over to the Military."

"And if he doesn't, the Alliance is already tiptoeing towards civil war. Kolya wants power, and this city will be all he could ever ask for," John pushed. It was a solid argument and was freaking him out the more he talked about it. The more he realised how real it could become.

"The thought of Kolya gaining control of the Genii Confederation is concerning," Carter agreed. "And is a potential threat to us and our interests in Pegasus."

"And if he starts causing any trouble with us," John added quickly, "whose side will the Elite be on after their shiny new marriage contract?"

Carter frowned worriedly and glanced up at Sumner now stood behind John's left shoulder.

"We need to hunt down Kolya," Sumner stated into the worried silence.

Carter's eyebrows lifted at the idea. "It would help solve our problems, and maybe even ingratiate us to Cowen. However, we've found no evidence so far as to his whereabouts, and I suspect that if the Genii had any idea themselves that they would have gotten to him by now. Finding him wouldn't be easy."

"Unless we work with the Genii," Woolsey suggested. John glared round at him. "We have access to more areas outside of Alliance space than they do. Perhaps working together we can hunt down Kolya."

"We already know that the Genii have plenty of spies and outposts well outside the Alliance border," John pointed out.

"But not the same level of access as us," Carter said, worrying John somewhat. "We have more allies outside the Alliance than they do."

"Finding Kolya is something that we have in common with Cowen and could help solve the problem," Woolsey concluded. A minute ago he hadn't thought there was a problem!

"And if Kolya ends up taking over from Cowen?" John asked. "And he knows we helped Cowen try to hunt him down?"

Carter frowned at that. "It would maybe give Kolya all the excuse he would need to turn on us even more publically."

John nodded emphatically.

"Perhaps it would be best to keep entirely out of the political situation," she continued thoughtfully. "Stay away from any further complications with the Genii and instead build our relationships with others in the Alliance. The more friends we have in the Alliance, the more we build our own allies, the less likely the Genii or Kolya will risk moving against us."

John didn't like where this was going, but then, what exactly had he hoped the outcome would be from this meeting?

"We don't know that Elite Emmagan will choose the Genii offer," Woolsey suggested.

"She'll choose him," John confirmed. "He's the only offer they're expecting." And because that was just the kind of crap that happened to John.

"Even if she does," Woolsey continued with a look that said John's interruptions were getting to him. "My point stands, this wedding will present us with the opportunities we need in forming relationships in the Alliance, which could include the Genii."

Silence fell and John looked worried at Carter. She was nodding as she silently pondered everything. John got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"You may be right," she finally said. "If this marriage goes ahead, then we should try to open a direct dialogue with the Genii – mend bridges, at least in appearance, and establish an official peaceful stance. Our close ties with the Elite and Athos could be just what we need to do that. The Genii might benefit from the Elite connections, but the Elite like us. They won't want the Genii messing up all our chances of working together against the Wraith, and Cowen wanted the non-aggression treaty. I think this could work in our favour, as long as we move carefully."

"I agree," Woolsey smiled. John wanted to punch him.

"Approach the Genii tomorrow," Carter ordered softly. "Use your discretion, Richard, but if we can find some common ground with them..."

"I suspect they will expect us to approach them, given the nature of the wedding as a place for such discussions," Woolsey replied.

"Yeah, so they'll hold all the cards," John muttered. The damn Genii would have everything they could want – Elite contacts and ships at their disposal, Athos' extensive trading relations, and Teyla. Teyla in a Genii General's bed.

He clenched his teeth and made himself release a heavy breath.

"I think this is the best way forward," Carter added, and John looked round to see that she was speaking directly to him. "We need to look out for ourselves, and at least for now, Kolya isn't part of the Alliance and the Genii Confederation. Building ties with the Genii is our best option here."

John chewed on the inside of his lip as he took in what she said. She was right of course, but that realisation was like a knife to his gut.

Nothing would get in the way of Teyla's marriage now.

What the hell had he expected anyway? That Carter and Sumner would protest to Torren and the wedding would be called off?

Apparently his stupidity was continuing.

"With so many of the Alliance's most powerful there tomorrow, the fact that you are both there, representing Atlantis at an Elite's wedding, could do more to show our own power than anything," Carter said, probably trying to bolster John's confidence. He was annoyed that she felt she needed to, but more so that he did actually need it right now.

He wasn't going to get out of this and Teyla wasn't going to call off the wedding. This meeting had made her point about alliances all the more horrifying. This was how politics was done – all show and big political displays, while quiet little deals were made between planets.

Well, he could play political too, be the Atlantis representative to Athos and the Elite that the Genii were going to have to deal with. He could be unemotional and controlled as Teyla and the rest.

He just wished he could do it in any way other than watching Teyla get married tomorrow.

He really needed that beer.

00000  
TBC


	12. Unexpected Results

00000

**Chapter 12 – Unexpected Results**

Among all the worlds and peoples in the Alliance, the Manarians filled one of the most significant roles. Despite generations of Wraith suppression, the Manarians had managed to create a communications network across their planet long before the days of the Alliance. The network, with watchers always stationed by their Portal, had been able to alert the entire planet within moments if a Portal activation had turned out to be suspicious, or if Wraith ships were spotted descending from the skies. The early warning system had saved thousands, if not millions of lives over the years.

It had been the Manarians who had worked with Rosenthal as two of the first worlds to team up together against the Wraith, and as more forces grew, it had been Manarian communications technology that had kept them all in contact.

As such, as soon as Alliance held space had been created, the Manarians had quickly established their technology in orbit above their planet, using assistance from their space-faring new allies, and within a handful of years, communications across the growing Wraith-free Alliance space had been fully functional.

In the years that had passed since those early days, Manaria had become the world that took care not only of all the Alliance ship and planetary communications, but the Alliance wide Links system which allowed real-time subspace communication over vast distances. As a result, Manaria had become the centre of almost all manufacture, maintenance, and development of communications technology, and their solar system was filled with multiple communications satellites. They had even installed two more Portals in the system – one for easy access to their own stations and another used for ship transport above Manaria.

Among the Links satellites established in the Manaria system, there were "hubs", which were working small stations that looked after the satellites and constantly monitored the Links systems. The hub in Sector 18 of the Manarian communications system was a little more special. It not only worked on its local communications, but it was larger, enabling satellites to be navigated in and repaired without having to be removed from space and replaced from Manaria. As such the Sector 18 hub station held some of the most talented in Manaria engineers.

One such an engineer was Malaca.

Manarians were exceptionally intelligent and trained from youth on electronics, but Malaca had that special level of genius that made his people proud. Yet, as was often the way with such individuals, he had been born with zero interest in advancement within his field. He was only interested in computers. To him, working with code and electronics was an art form and some said the man even dreamt in code. Of course, he still had to make a living, so he had set himself up as a freelance engineer, with his people giving him his own personal workshop on the Sector 18 hub in return for his personal attention on any and all satellites that required repair or upgrade. In return, he kept a careful and mothering watch over the Links satellites and was something of a silent vital cog in the turning of the network.

That was his day job.

His other job, the one that he much preferred, was to tinker.

Seeal was a fan of tinkering. Most engineers and hackers learnt a lot from tinkering, and Malaca was a genius at it when it came to computers. It was that skill and his somewhat lax attention to anything that might limit his interest, such as legal restrictions, which had led to him being approached on occasion for "extra projects" by interested parties. If you needed to break into a high level security lock, Malaca was the one to go to. The Tile Brothers, considered the greatest hackers in the galaxy, had a friendly relationship with Malaca, having introduced themselves to him years ago by hacking into one of the communications hub. The hack had been so effective that it had caught Malaca's personal attention, and in return for their having pointed out the hole in the security system of the hub, Malaca had solved a small hacking code problem for the brothers.

Seeal knew that the Tile Brothers still talked with Malaca over text link regularly, sharing code and information on systems. She was almost certain that they had worked as a team on a particular electronic bank heist a few years back, though she had never actually asked directly. What she did know was that the brothers had never again hacked into the Manarian Links system. Even among criminal circles it was considered rude to do so, and after his years of secretly assisting people with certain problems, Malaca had quite a few rich and powerful friends who would quite happily go looking for any who might cause trouble for him. Even Creass had respected Malaca's reputation.

The funny thing was that Malaca really didn't care about political lines, reputations, who was rich and who wanted to be, what the legal lines were, or even the moral ones – all he cared about was tinkering. His personal workshop on the Sector 18 hub was legendary among the right people, not just because of his talent, but because he had one of the most impressive electronic collections in the Alliance. If someone was shopping for a particularly unusual piece of tech, Malaca was the man to visit. Seeal had purchased a few pieces of her own best tech from his workshop.

She should have known he would be behind Toshka's code. The new code was the work of not only a true genius, but one with enough obsession and time on his hands to work the thing into life, and it was said that Malaca didn't sleep. The story was obviously apocryphal, but Seeal had never seen the man look even vaguely tired regardless of the time of day she had visited. It was sometimes that way with the truly obsessive and inspired.

Creass had said that the man got off on his work and it was all he needed – no woman, no man, and he only cared about currency enough to buy him the components he wanted. Not that Malaca probably couldn't get hold of any components he wanted for free from Manaria, or through his powerful friends across the Alliance.

Seeal imagined that Toshka had paid pretty damn well for that computer code.

It also made Seeal wonder what Saoka might have acquired from Malaca's genius, since he part owned the station. Most planets in the Alliance gave currency to Manaria for the upkeep of the communications links, but few could actually pay for an entire station, and one of their biggest too. She suspected Malaca had done a lot of work for Saoka and she had to wonder what Saoka did for him in return. In fact it was that example of Malaca's reach that was worrying her somewhat.

When it came to linchpins in secret connections and networks, Malaca was pretty prefect. His extra-curricular activities were only known by those in the know, he wasn't a person of interest to Division or Enforcement, and he had no personal political associations. When it came to quiet sources of intell, Malaca was pretty damn well placed, plus he had that flexible approach to rules. If Oneakka and the Elite were looking for someone to provide them some real proper intell on the secret powers in the Alliance, then Malaca would be it.

The problem was that as soon as an Elite warrior, a Satedan Military Councillor and an Elite Security Lead walked into Malaca's workshop, the ditch-rats they were hunting would scuttle away and never return. Just like they had on Dreamstation after the Elite had paid their little visit. Malaca's usefulness would end abruptly and they would lose insight and access to the secret connections they were hunting.

There was nothing more useful than a quiet unseen talkative person placed in the most opportune of places.

Now that she thought about it, she was a perfect example of that truth. She had not been a player in Creass' affairs at all, yet she had witnessed it all from her position as Security Lead, and here she was able to provide the Elite and the Alliance with more information than Creass and his previous associates could imagine. She hadn't been important really, other than to keep the peace on Dream, but she had the power to bring down major organisations, including Creass. She had had no problem in supplying all the information she could now to the Elite, but she still refused to reveal Creass' location. She still owed him that much. That tiny speck of protection for what he had done for her in the past.

Right now she could provide something of a brake on a similar situation with Malaca. If he stayed where he was, untouched by the Elite, as least publically, he could be an amazing source for them.

The trick was working out how to persuade Oneakka not to steam into Malaca's workshop, threaten to kill him, and destroy the whole plan. There were ways to explain away an Elite turning up on the Hub, but not if he was known to have been manhandling Malaca. Oneakka needed to stay out of this upcoming interview – in fact he would be best if he wasn't even present.

How she was going to be able to talk him into that was still up for grabs.

She watched Oneakka walking ahead of her now, his pale arms relaxed at his sides as they all stepped off their transport which had brought them here from the small local Manarian Portal established on the edge of the communications spread. Oneakka's presence had caused an immediate reaction on the tiny Portal station, which was a reaction she was almost getting used to now. Not only was Oneakka an Elite, which probably made everyone think Wraith were about to turn up and kill them all, but the facial tattoos and the grim 'don't mess with me' angry stare made people scatter away from him as quickly as their legs could carry them.

Edfu, however, had shared some quiet words with the Portal station's security staff and they had been escorted to a small transport vessel that the Manarians used to visit the hubs and check over the satellites. Edfu had piloted the small vessel from the station through Sector 19 and 18 to the large Sector 18 hub station.

The communication hubs weren't like Saoka's other stations, or even the military's stations. There were no large shopping halls or leisure facilities, they were working stations. Only authorised personnel were allowed to even approach a hub, let alone walk around it, and getting authorisation was a headache. Seeal knew because she had bypassed the system to get onto the hub in the past herself. Once you were on the station you were usually in the clear, because there just weren't that many people walking the hallways. Those that did walk around were disinterested techs and a limited number of security, who assumed you had permission to be there.

Which was useful today, because the fewer people who saw her and Oneakka's motley unlikely team the better.

Seeal cast her gaze around the small atrium set off the docking section into the hub. She studied each face she could see, waiting to see if any would be familiar. It didn't take long as there were only seven people, three of which were security.

One of the three guards on duty stepped forward respectfully towards Oneakka, the man's eyes also sliding to Edfu and Dex close on Seeal's heels.

"Honoured Elite," the guard began, bowing his head to Oneakka. Seeal instantly decided that the guard had a proper Military background, his straight back and ease in approaching Oneakka telling enough for her. "How can we be of assistance?"

"None," Oneakka replied in his usual blunt way, but he did stop as he reached the guard. "Internal investigation," was all he added.

The guard nodded with some understanding. "Should I put my people on alert?" He asked directly in return.

Oneakka glanced at the two other guards who were younger and more awe struck. "No, nothing on record."

"There is no perceived danger to the hub," Edfu assured further.

The first guard nodded again. "Understood. If you require any assistance, Honoured Elite, we are available," he added to Oneakka.

Oneakka nodded faintly, but his attention was already moving past the guard, sliding over all the few other people moving through the atrium. They all looked away quickly, all appearing to be normal station crew to Seeal's eyes.

"Thank you for your assistance," Edfu smiled at the guard, but the man was already retreating, leaving Oneakka to his work.

Seeal watched as the guard returned to the other guards, who were still standing with their mouths practically hanging open. Working security on a communications hub station was probably rather boring work, so seeing an Elite arrive would probably be the highlight of the young men's lives.

Poor things, Seeal mused, as she followed Oneakka as he strode across the atrium, heading towards the central staircase that she had already told him would lead both up and down further into the station.

They were headed down the levels – somewhat appropriately really.

"How often have you been here?" Edfu asked her as he fell into step alongside her. On the trip to the Portal station he had been full of probing questions and had presented more of his charismatic beaming smiles. As he had piloted the transport vessel here, she had been saved the pleasant interrogation, but he was starting up again.

"Once or twice," she replied as Oneakka led the way down the white staircase.

A woman coming up the steps hadn't noticed them, too interested in reading her electronic pad, and she only noticed Oneakka's fast approach at the last minute. Gasping in worried shock, the female tech immediately flattened herself against the wall. Oneakka moved past her without comment, but Edfu quickly stepped in.

"Routine visit, do not be alarmed," Edfu told the woman with a gentle touch to her arm as they passed her on the stairs. "Please speak to the guards in the atrium," he instructed, probably with one of his beaming smiles.

"Strange that you would be allowed on the station," Edfu continued to Seeal without missing a beat. Seeal guessed he was used to cleaning up emotionally after an Elite had been around. "How did you manage it?"

"You look the way people expect and behave the right way, you can get in anywhere," she told him.

"I suppose that is logical, but impressive nonetheless," Edfu replied.

She ignored the compliment.

"Have the famous Tile Brothers been here?" He asked.

She smiled at him. "How would I know?" Why would Edfu think to ask about them?

He smiled back. "A woman of your worldly knowledge and connections would probably know if they had entered Alliance space. From what you have told us about Malaca, I suspect you met him through the Tile Brothers, and since you are now working for us-"

"Us being the Elite?" She interrupted, seeing if he would misstep at realising he had put himself on the same level as the Elite warriors.

"Us being the Alliance," Edfu correctly easily.

"I'm working _with_ you, not for you," she clarified as Oneakka reached the correct level for Malaca's shop and turned into the main circular corridor that led a full loop around the level.

"That could always change," Edfu replied, his voice pleasant enough, though the words seemed to hold a threat.

She glanced at him with a frown.

"Have you given any thought to where you plan to go after you finish assisting the Elite?" he asked.

"Not yet, I suppose it depends on how long it will take for me to be able leave," she replied, returning her attention to Oneakka in front of them.

She realised that he was closer than normal, only a couple of paces ahead, not storming forward expecting everyone else to just keep up with him. That he was walking slower could only mean one thing – he was listening in to her conversation with Edfu.

Probably looking for a moment to interject an objection to something she said. She was tempted to say something wrong just to see if he would interrupt and prove her suspicion.

"From the information you have already supplied and the detailed criminal database you are building up on the Sythus, I imagine it will not take too long," Edfu suggested, drawing her attention back to him.

"I think it's going to take a lot more work than that," she replied, both honestly and because Oneakka was listening.

"If that is so," Edfu continued, "then perhaps there are other avenues of assisting the Elite further that you have not considered yet."

"Such as?" She asked glancing ahead – they were almost to the turning off towards Malaca's workshop. There was a sign hanging from the ceiling displaying the way to go, which Oneakka would clearly see, but she would still point it out to him.

"How did you know Karthig was the likely traitor on the Sythus?" Edfu asked, once again surprising her.

She looked at him with more focus, looking across his symmetrical handsome features, seeing curiosity and something like to flirtation in his expression.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"You apparently picked Karthig out of several suspects," Edfu reminded her, though she remembered easily enough. "How did you know it was him? Exactly?" She wasn't surprised at the interrogation, after all it was his job to understand what she had seen. He wanted to understand what his people had missed. She would probably do the same in his position.

"It was obvious," she replied simply.

"How?"

"The way he behaved," she replied in piecemeal form.

Edfu grinned at her, seeming to think it was a game. As long as he didn't think he was winning. "Are you always this difficult to question?"

"What do you think?" She responded with a smile of her own before looking ahead. "The next turn," she instructed Oneakka.

"I see it," Oneakka replied immediately. He crossed in front of a tech coming the other way, making the man falter in his steps, and headed into the corridor. Seeal and Edfu followed him, Dex walking strangely quiet behind them.

She glanced over her shoulder at the Satedan. He met her gaze immediately. The anger and frustration from before were gone, or at least better controlled. He seemed more contained, almost thoughtful now.

During the trip here in the transport vessel, he and Oneakka had talked about Toshka's computer core, about how it would not be released until the code was broken, regardless of the law. Oneakka's insistence and confident promise of that to Dex had seemed to take the fire out of the Satedan.

She had kept silent during the trip, listening in, but knowing that they knew she was. She had still learnt some very interesting information. Such as the fact that Dex and Oneakka were apparently friends, despite the confrontation back on the Sythus about her involvement.

The longer she spent around Oneakka the more she was having to adapt her view of him. The damn stubbornness of the self-confident warrior with blunt honesty was the picture of the ultimate Elite warrior, focused on killing Wraith and letting nothing get in his way. However, it was turning out that he had more depth than that. The man had friends. People he _socialised_ with. She found it difficult to picture him relaxing at all, let alone sharing a mug of beer with a Satedan. And the conversation Dex and Oneakka had had in the transport suggested that quite a few beers had been had during the last social event. Oneakka had fun? While doing something other than ordering people around or killing Wraith? Next thing he would be laughing or something even crazier.

Whatever the friendship between the two men looked like in actual fact, it had been clear to her that Dex wasn't holding the confrontation back on the Sythus against Oneakka. Against her, yes, but not Oneakka.

During the trip here Dex had bluntly asked Oneakka why he trusted her, and Oneakka had replied that she was easy to read and control. She had broken her still and silent routine at that. She had opened her mouth and turned to give the man a piece of her mind only to find Oneakka had been watching her with what had looked like amusement in his eyes. She had shut her mouth, denying him the reaction he had tried to provoke, and had looked away.

The moment replayed in her mind now as she followed the Elite warrior down the last section of corridor towards Malaca's techno nest. The overly white walls, that reflected the hub's standard decor, made Oneakka's already pale skin seem bright under the direct lights. The darker tones of his body armour covering his torso stood out in stark contrast, his brown hair and the dark handles of his weapons at his lower back and waist all the more apparent. His arms, always bare from the shoulder down, hung loosely at his sides, his hands relaxed – he was at ease on this station.

As she was. Despite what she had told Edfu, she had walked this corridor a good handful of times over the last four years since it had become operational. Glancing up subtly, she confirmed that there was no sign of any security feed watching the station's hallways. The station was considered highly secure, and thus no one seemed to worry about installing surveillance beyond the entrance atrium. It had been relatively easy for her to get onto the hub in the past, and she hadn't lied to Edfu about how she had gone unquestioned - it was amazing what the right attitude and a subtle disguise could achieve.

However, it was far harder to conceal Oneakka's presence on the station. She still wasn't sure how she was going to handle him regarding Malaca, but she had decided to deal with it at the last minute. Getting Oneakka do to anything was clearly as difficult as keeping that goat in the Hypdroponics Bay, but she hoped that basic logic would work this time.

"How did you know?" Edfu asked, pushing at his former questions yet again and pulling her from her internal assessment of the Elite in front of her.

She quickly replayed their conversation – Karthig, Edfu had wanted to know about Karthig. "How someone behaves when they're not with other people can say more than when they are," she replied.

"Of course," Edfu responded immediately. "But what was it? Specifically," he pushed. He was determined.

She didn't have time for this though, they were almost at their destination and she had to speak to Oneakka before they reached the last section of corridor.

"He didn't like people," she replied simply to Edfu and quickened her step to reach Oneakka.

"We need to discuss our approach before we go in there," she told Oneakka's back and shoulder.

"The approach is through the door," Oneakka replied as if he hadn't understood her true meaning, but she knew that he had. He was purposefully playing blunt and ignorant.

"If you want to get the most from Malaca, we need to go about this _sensibly_," she stressed, suggesting that Oneakka was not being sensible.

He didn't rise to the obvious bait, but just kept walking down the empty white corridor.

This was no good. "Honoured Elite," she tried, "we have to handle him carefully."

"I won't kill him," Oneakka replied simply. "Yet."

She was almost certain that he didn't actually mean that. Despite all the talk about the brutality of the Elite, she had seen next to no excessive aggression in any of them, other than in the form of arrogant self-confidence. Oneakka was very confident, but he did listen. He had proven that he would listen to her – not always agree, but he did at least listen.

And she needed him to listen now. She looked ahead – one more corner till they would see Malaca's workshop entrance.

She needed to stop Oneakka now, make him see sense.

There was only one more option and she went for it.

She reached out towards Oneakka's closest bare arm, catching hold of him just above his elbow.

It was a risky move to unexpectedly touch a warrior of Oneakka's calibre without warning. However, she was almost certain that Elite were rarely touched by anyone other than their own. No one else would dare to, or risk unintentionally provoking a violent instinctive reaction from a highly trained warrior. She had some faith that the high level of his training meant that Oneakka wouldn't just lash out, but it was still a real risk doing anything that might be misconstrued as an attack towards an Elite.

However, she understood on a primitive level that it would be the only thing that she could do to get his attention, to make him listen to her.

So, she reached out to touch his arm, to touch his skin that was almost as pale as the white washed walls around them.

His arm was far warmer than she had expected, his skin smoother, and the flesh even thicker with muscle than the toned limbs appeared. It brought a new physicality to him that was almost as shocking to her as she was intending it to be for him.

As she had hoped, he reacted immediately to the physical and unexpected demand for his attention, and fortunately that response did not involve an instinctive attack. Instead, his head swung round to her, his full attention landing on her with a sudden focus that was almost as physical as the feeling of his bicep flexing out from under her hand. He even stopped walking as his solid blue eyes fell on her with questioning weight.

She quickly pressed the moment she had gained.

"Malaca can be very useful to you. You want to know who your enemies really are inside the Alliance, who might be using the same contacts as Toshka and others? Then Malaca could lead you to them," she explained. "But, if _you_ go in there, you'll have the same effect on that working source of information as you did on Dreamstation. You'll shut down one of the few underground contacts you know about."

"He's a traitor," Oneakka stated, but there wasn't a huge amount of heat in it.

"No, he's an overly obsessed computer tech who gets his only kicks in life from playing with code and computer programmes. He doesn't have any political associations, he doesn't overtly break any laws. He's just employed by people to find solutions to their computer and code problems. He's a professional problem-solver."

"Criminal problems," Oneakka replied in his simple terms.

"By simply providing code, he's no direct threat himself."

"He works for those who break Alliance law."

"Like you did when you tore Toshka's core out of his office wall and stole it?" She pushed.

Oneakka frowned heavily and shifted his weight towards her, pushing himself into her personal space. "_You're_ arguing breaking laws with me?" The tone hadn't been as angry as she had expected, more incredulous, which she could kind of understand.

"My point is that Malaca isn't your enemy here; he's the _key_ to getting what you want," she insisted, leaning further towards him herself. "You destroy his reputation here and you will lose any advantage of tracing those who use him now and in the future, such as those working and helping Toshka. If any of them get even a sniff of an Elite having visited Malaca, you lose all of that. Let me and Edfu go in, we'll talk with him."

Oneakka was already drawing in a breath to object, so she quickly kept talking.

"You're an Elite, and a rather conspicuous one at that. Anyone here sees you walk in there and you'll contaminate all that potential information and those you're after will disappear quicker than you can identify them," she insisted. "Malaca's best placed working _for_ _you_, even if he doesn't know it."

"Plenty of people have already seen me at the Portal station and here," Oneakka pointed out the hole in her argument, but that he was arguing it told her that he was considering her argument.

"You could be visiting anyone here – there's no security feeds on the workshop levels, no one's followed us. Maybe the Elite could have concerns about security in the Links system. Let us go in and talk to Malaca, you can go frighten the security staff here and distract them from Malaca." He frowned at her at and what had almost been an instruction. "We get Malaca talking and he could spill information you haven't even dreamt of yet."

"All the better for me to make sure he does talk."

She was getting the feeling that he was arguing for the sake of it now, but she pressed on, glancing back down the corridor behind them to ensure they were still alone. However, she saw that Dex had already stationed himself a few metres back, watching around the last corner of the corridor. She looked back to Oneakka.

"You brought me here because of my experience and skill, what's the point if you just ignore me?" She challenged him. "_You_ walk in there and the man is going to wet himself."

Oneakka rocked his weight back slightly, out of the closer insistent distance at which they had been talking. "What's wrong with that?" He asked, clearly pleased at the suggestion that just the sight of him could put the fear of death into someone like Malaca.

"Because it'll make a mess and we need him to be able to talk in complete sentences," she replied with a faint smile.

Oneakka glanced at the corner ahead, around which it would be a short walk to Malaca's workshop.

He was considering her point.

"He can't go anywhere, he's on a space station," she rationalised.

Oneakka looked back at her with a faint frown.

"Honoured Elite," Edfu put in, stepping up to them. Seeal had almost forgotten the man was there. "I have to agree with Seeal. Malaca's record implies that he is a somewhat insular man, who keeps to himself and avoids conflict. Such a profile will become excessively passive in your presence."

Seeal frowned at that description, probably Elite in origin.

"We can handle this," Edfu stated in a quite impressively confident yet respectful tone.

Oneakka looked from Edfu to her and then away down to where Dex was now approaching. "I'll make sure he talks," Dex promised, undermining the point, but Seeal could see that they had convinced Oneakka.

Oneakka looked at Edfu. "If he doesn't tell you what we need for deciphering Toshka's coding within five minutes, drag him out and we'll take him back with us."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Edfu promised.

Oneakka nodded faintly, clearly not all that pleased despite his agreement.

"There's a security station at the end of this side corridor, looking out on a docking station where they bring in the communication satellites for repair work," she informed him. "You could poke around there to keep yourself busy," she suggested.

The blue eyes rested back on her with a narrowing glare that she had expected. Giving over control was clearly not something Oneakka did all that often – not that she couldn't relate to that – but she bet there were few who would tell him what to do while teasing him about it.

"Let's get in there," Edfu stated with excessive anticipation as he pushed faintly at Seeal's shoulder, encouraging her forward. He thought he was saving her from Oneakka's wrath – sweet, but unnecessary. "Malaca might have overheard us talking down here, we do not want to lose the potential of surprising him."

Seeal moved forward with Edfu, as he did have a point, but she made sure to move away from his hand that was still encouraging her forward. "That wasn't necessary," she told him.

"Trust me, it was," Edfu replied very quietly.

"Trust me, it wasn't," she countered, but carried on around the corner ahead. She wasn't afraid of Oneakka, despite how his angry glare might have appeared to Edfu, she hadn't seen anything but annoyance in it that she had won the discussion.

It wasn't important now anyway. As the doorway into Malaca's workshop came into view, she prepared herself for the interview ahead. Oneakka had allowed them to go on without him, but that only meant she had to pull what she had promised out of the situation now. But this kind of situation was her powerbase and she had dealt with Malaca enough times now to know how to handle him.

They reached the closed door, on which hung a small sign stating his opening hours and his hourly rate – which was rubbish, because she knew Malaca practically lived in the workshop all day and night, and he chose how much he charged off the top of his head half the time.

She ignored the call buzzer beside the door's lock, which normally people pressed for Malaca's permission to enter. She pulled out a small lock cracker that she had found among the Elite's equipment on the transport that had taken them off the Sythus. Apparently the Elite all carried the lock crackers. She wondered how long it would take the device to break through Malaca's door code. She pressed the small flat device to the door and triggered it.

"That doesn't seem all that polite," Edfu stated beside her, his tone all judgemental.

"Best he's unprepared," she replied as the cracker flashed a colour change and she heard the faintest pressure release from the door – impressive. Getting her fingers into the small space, she pushed the door aside, Edfu reaching out to help her, sliding the door fully aside to reveal the entrance to Malaca's workshop.

It looked as it always did – decorated, scattered, littered, and coated in random electronics. There wasn't a free flat space along the two side units that ran down the narrow entrance to the shop, above which open cupboards and shelves disgorged further electronics. Cables hung from circuit panels piled up on the shelves like branches and leaves hanging from trees, while circuit boards and strips of metal sat like books or pads in tall stacks with no apparent order to them.

Seeal led the way through the mess, running her eye over it all in case anything looked useful. It was essentially lost and found for anything electronic or faintly metallic. Massive rolls of cable and wiring led the way through the single entrance into the main workshop, the largest reels standing like sentries at the entrance to a temple to electronic divinity.

Seeal stepped through the temple entrance into Malaca's shop. The smell of fresh soldering mixed with the sharp scent of electricity. The air was hot in here, the five fans turning above the large room not enough to keep the air cool around the banks of computers that encircled the room.

Four long stout benches sat in a square formation in the centre of the workspace. Welding equipment and pieces of hammered sheet metal were stacked up on one whilst a long complex pattern of cabling was strung across the other workbenches. The single occupant of the room stood in the centre of the benches in the middle of the pattern of cabling, smoke billowing up from his work.

Having heard them enter, Malaca stopped and looked up and round. His face was almost entirely engulfed by the thick black protective goggles he wore, his cheek smeared dark, and his hair wet with perspiration. Thin fingers lifted to push his goggles up his high forehead, his fingernails burnt and blackened from his lifetime of work. A frown was revealed above his sharp dark eyes.

"Two point three seconds," he said, his voice lifting over the turning of the fans and the constant faint hum of the banks of computers powering away around the walls of the large room. "Interesting cracker."

Seeal sauntered into the room, playing the role of interested party, curious about what she saw. She held up the Elite cracker briefly, allowing him a tiny look before it disappeared into her jacket pocket. "I borrowed it," she told him with a smile. "Been some time, Malaca."

Malaca turned to face her more directly, but his eyes were on Edfu and Dex. Seeal ignored them and moved around one bench, looking over the cables, trying to work out what he was constructing.

"Interesting new heavies for you," Malaca frowned at Edfu and Dex.

"We are nobody's heavies," Edfu stated, his expression serious as he and Dex stood in the entrance, arms crossed as they took in the workshop. They certainly looked the part.

"Malaca," she called, drawing the man's attention back on her. "I'm here to talk about some past work of yours."

Malaca adjusted his goggles back over his eyes and leant forward over his cables again. "I only focus on my current work."

"That is a shame," Seeal replied quickly as she paced along the side of a bench. "This was the most impressive work I've seen. Perhaps it wasn't yours."

Malaca glanced at her. As disinterested in power and politics as he was, he still liked to hear how good he was at what he did.

Dex had begun moving around the far side of the workshop, moving along the furthest bench, Malaca sandwiched in the space between the benches and therefore between her and Dex. Dex brushed up against some of the laid out cabling, knocking it to the ground. Malaca looked round with annoyance, but he didn't say anything. The Satedan was working his best intimidation routine, though was silent for now.

"My associates were hoping to tap your skills again," she tempted Malaca, drawing his attention back to her. "But, if you're not interested in talking about your past work..."

Dex paced on, Malaca's eyes to keep an eye on the big man.

"What work?" Malaca asked.

"Some computer coding," she replied as she moved a little further along the bench as Dex began a circuit around the workshop, Malaca's attention shifting between him and her. Edfu was still stationed at the entrance.

A few pieces of retrofitted circuit board drew her attention. She picked them up off the bench with interest. "Is this what I think it is?" She asked.

That got her all of his attention. Malaca moved swiftly over his cabling and reached across the workbench for the circuit piece in her hand.

"All work is private," he stated protectively as he snatched it from her.

"Of course," Seeal replied calmly. "Just like that link intercept that you worked with the Tiles."

Malaca set the circuit down on a shelf under the workbench. "You want an impenetrable computer security system? I've got plenty. It will cost you though, for me to tailor it for your _associates_."

Dex had made a full circuit of the shop and had reached the corner behind Seeal in which there was a massive heap of random scrap metal, piled up to the point of collapse.

"The computer system we are particularly interested in," Edfu put in, "is something that you tailored very specifically."

"And you want a copy," Malaca guessed. "Everything is unique here, I don't duplicate. I have no interest in what I've already managed to do."

"This particular coding is unique," Seeal pushed. "Something you'll have worked long and hard on, after all it takes time to come up with an entirely new computer coding system."

Malaca became very still, his eyes all that moved as he looked back at her. "A new coding system?"

"With an entirely new language you put together for someone with considerable power of his own," Seeal replied. "We want into that code and we're willing to pay you double whatever you were paid for it."

Malaca blinked. He had been paid a lot.

Something metal shifted behind her, Dex had either nearly knocked something over or was looking through things.

Malaca let out a breath. "Double?"

"Yes," Seeal replied, but she watched him carefully.

He seemed different to the last time she had worked with him, which had to be almost a year ago now. He had more arrogance than before, more self-assuredness.

Dex shifted something else and there was a clatter of falling metal. Seeal worked for patience.

Malaca glanced in Dex's direction, again only with his eyes.

Seeal frowned at him.

"We can pay you more if that's what will convince you," Edfu put in from the entrance to the workshop.

Malaca's eyes shifted back to her and then he looked round to Edfu. His shoulders were tensing up.

There was another crash, louder than before, and this time Seeal had to look round at the distracting Satedan Military Councillor. About to deliver some choice words, she paused. He had found something very interesting in the pile of scrap metal. Buried under it, concealed under the scrap, was a small chunky piece of weaponry sat boxed in by two large pieces of what looked like ship hull plating.

"This is Satedan," Dex pointed to the weaponry, "Military only. And this," he jabbed at another piece, "Genii plating."

Seeal frowned at the military equipment in Malaca's shop, something that should never be there, but before she could follow where her mind was now heading, Malaca was abruptly moving.

He shot across the furthest workbench, having thrown himself over it with a quickness she hadn't known the man was capable of.

Dex shouted aggressively over a clutter of scrap metal across the floor, and Edfu shouted a warning to Malaca, but Seeal was too busy actually chasing after Malaca.

Over the workbench, Malaca had landed a little awkwardly, but was now running fast towards the far end of the shop. He would have a backdoor out of here, through which Malaca thought he would probably find nice helpful station security to save him from the dangerous 'criminals' after him. Little did he know whose side they were on.

She raced across the shop after him, jumping over various pieces of hardware, aware of Dex close behind her, but growling angrily at something. She just kept her eyes on Malaca's retreating back.

The little twerp was out of sight a split second later, having slid into a disgustingly narrow concealed space between two massive heavy shelving units. She slid in after him, but felt the shudder and heard the angry yell that told her Dex wouldn't be able to fit.

"Malaca, there's nowhere to run!" She shouted as she saw the man disappear through a concealed door down at the end of the tight space.

She got there just in time to jab her arm through the closing door and trigger its emergency re-open sequence. She squeezed through the opening door as quickly as she could, hearing Edfu calling to her, apparently able to fit down the narrow space unlike Dex.

The door led out into a strangely dark corridor. It was a dead end to the right, but the left stretched only a few yards until she could see the standard white corridors of the hub station. Malaca was headed towards that promising hopeful escape.

Except a tall dark shape stepped into the light, abruptly blocking Malaca's near exit.

Malaca slid to a stop, his shocked frightened gasp echoing to Seeal as she ran towards the confrontation, but it was already over.

Malaca staggered backwards, pin wheeling his limbs to stop from colliding with the massive tattooed Elite in his way.

"Malaca," Oneakka stated and the tech genius lost his footing, crashing down onto his backside on the smooth station floor. Seeal guessed the guy had never seen an Elite in the flesh before.

"Hon...onured..." Malaca began, confused and terrified.

Oneakka set one boot between Malaca's spread legs, reached down and picked Malaca up off the floor by the front of his shirt with a strength that appeared easy to him. He then turned and shoved Malaca's back against the corridor wall.

"The Elite wish to speak with you," Oneakka answered Malaca's barely started questions.

Seeal slid to a stop by them, her breathing faintly fast, as behind her Edfu arrived, as equally late as she was.

"He's got hidden military hardware in there," Seeal informed Oneakka. "Including some Satedan weaponry that Dex recognised."

Oneakka looked at her from Malaca. "Good thing I decided to _busy myself_ nearby then," he told her, repeating her own mocking words back to her. It wasn't with an angry tone though, in fact she thought he seemed rather pleased at being able to say the words back at her.

"I was still right," she found herself replying. "Told you he would wet himself," she indicated the wide-eyed Malaca.

00000  
TBC


	13. Maloo

00000

**Chapter 13 - Maloo**

The Athosian evening was at least warm, the end of summer still holding despite the ever increasing rain showers.

Following John's angry departure and confirmation on the complex's schedule that the group from Atlantis had indeed left, Teyla had come out to Family Courtyard, desperate for fresh air and for somewhere to sit outside alone.

Hours had since passed, through which she had simply sat on the warm bench set in the corner of the yard, watching Ketra explore the damp flowerbeds and occasionally lap water up from one of the two large reflecting pools.

Teyla had realised about an hour into her silent brooding that she should not have come to this yard, for it had been the one in which she and John had saved Father and Zabetha. The yard, though only for family to enjoy within the Governing Buildings, was still tainted by John's ghost.

And haunt her he did.

She had played through his words and her own over and over again since he had stormed out of her quarters, which felt like both a lifetime and an instant ago.

She should have handled the situation better, more professionally.

She should not have indulged herself with him one last time; He had been fresh from lovemaking and her words must have felt more like betrayal than at any other time. And she should have realised that her planning to marry a Genii would be so very significant to him.

She had been foolish in so many ways, and the regret had echoed.

But so had the anger.

His own angry words had run through her thoughts, the memories somehow especially loud and aggressive to her.

She had suspected that he would be upset, that the heightened emotions borne of their relationship would make the discussion more difficult, for them both.

On that she felt both embarrassment at her own loss of control and no small amount of fury for the way he had talked to her. How could he believe what he had asked of her?

He had suggested that she had not only been sleeping with many other men, but that she had done so with him simply to engender cooperation between her people and Atlantis. To think he would think so little of her cut deeply at her sense of honour. Even in the flush of anger, how could he suggest that she would be so low?

Despite the painful situation and her own behaviour, the argument between them had only strengthened her resolve. Distancing herself from John was the correct decision. He had made her lose her centre, her calm, and her professionalism.

She had never before thrown anything in anger in her life.

The thrown pot still lay on her floor upstairs, its soil and dislodged roots across the rug.

Despite the mess, she had not wanted to touch it. She did not want to see if it had been damaged beyond repair.

She should have listened to her Elite training from the start – emotional connections with others led to a loss of focus that could lead to the worst of consequences.

That had already been proven to her with Kari' death.

It was not her lot to be in love as an Elite, to be distracted so easily. There was too much at stake, and clearly John had a continuing ability to disrupt her life, and her usual calm.

That would change now. She would simply have to move on, follow through on her decisions, and in time the heated angry words would be forgotten.

But, how could he have thought so little of her to suggest what he had?

How could he think so little of her?

Why did the question torture her so?

Ketra padded up to her, warm soft snout pushing under one of Teyla's hands, forcing the attention she was unable to give without prompting.

Teyla lifted her hand and scratched around Ketra's ear. Ketra huffed out tiredly. Had they been out here so long that Ketra was tired from her climbing, jumping and dancing around after insects and birds? Teyla stroked over Ketra's head and the dragon let out another puff of air and then laid down dramatically, as if exhausted, or perhaps bored.

Teyla smiled faintly down at Ketra as the dragon laid her cheek against Teyla's foot and stretched out her limbs on the dried paving stones.

Her smile did not last long though. Sadness reared up painfully in Teyla's chest as she watched Ketra breathing calmly, peacefully.

Hurt, grief and deep regret threatened her control again. A foolish urge to run to the Portal and contact John played through her thoughts.

What if she was never to see him again?

What if she did see him again? How would she be able to ignore this torrent of mixed grief, anger, and deep sadness?

Why did it have to feel so intense? She had just wanted to end the affair, to create separation and yet now she had perhaps damaged their friendship forever, and perhaps even the ties that bound Atlantis and her own people.

What if her affair would unmake all the good the treaty and trade agreements had achieved?

What kind of Elite lost the Alliance one of their greatest allies against the Wraith?

No, she could not believe that John would do something like that. He was too honourable himself to damage such alliance.

But then he had said such awful things to her...

The angry hurt rose up in her throat again. He had shouted at her, hadn't let her finish a single sentence. He had ignored her points and accused her of dishonourable behaviour.

She would not have thought him capable of that before now.

Had they truly known each other at all?

She looked up and away from Ketra's contented snooze, refusing the tears that were trying to break free.

Elite did not cry.

"Teyla?" Charin's voice lifted softly and kindly across the yard.

Teyla's throat constricted – she did not want to be with others right now. Did not want to see her family. They would too easily be able to see the emotions warring inside her.

Ketra sat up from her snooze to watch Charin's approach down the length of the yard.

"I saw her rushing around the pools earlier," Charin began, her elderly voice still strong, and without any obvious discernible note of concern or pity.

Teyla pulled herself together internally and tried the best smile she was capable of right now. "From tomorrow she will be shut in the Sythus for many weeks," she replied, hoping her tone was even.

"I have seen the images of the Hydropondics Bays in your ships," Charin replied as she reached the bench and carefully settled down beside Teyla. "I imagine she has more green space to run around in there than in this complex. Do you not pretty girl?" Charin asked as she cupped Ketra's face in her aged hands. Ketra's eyes slid shut, her mouth almost lifting in a smile of contentment. Of course her species did not smile, it was simply Teyla's imagination that she did.

Teyla watched Charin definitely smile at Ketra, and the woman's presence smoothed something deep in Teyla. Part of her desperately wanted to be comforted, to be held and told all would be well. Yet, another side of her did not want any sign of comfort, for she was a grown woman and an Elite warrior. And that any true sign of concern might fracture her thin control over the tears that wanted to flow over what had happened with John.

Elite did not cry.

"I received a link from Sitayi," Charin said as she held Ketra's head in her hands, her thumbs stroking Ketra's cheeks so gently.

Teyla glanced at Charin's face. "Has she recovered?"

"Yes," Charin replied, her attention still on Ketra. "Enough to be here tomorrow."

"If she is not well enough, I will understand-" Teyla said quickly. For some reason the idea of Sitayi not being present somehow lessened the reality of what the ceremony tomorrow would bring.

"She wishes to be here," Charin interrupted her gently, her kind eyes turning to Teyla. "She knows she will be here."

The meaning being that Sitayi had already foreseen her presence at Teyla's wedding. How long had Sitayi known?

Teyla looked away to the closest reflecting pool, the last of the sun's rays casting a sharp line across the yard. It would be dark too soon, but the warmth should remain for some hours yet.

Teyla found that she wished it was cold instead.

If Sitayi had seen the wedding, then it would happen.

She really was getting married tomorrow.

It was a foolish realisation since she had been the one to set this event, to decide upon the day. Yet, knowing Sitayi had seen it, perhaps for some time now, meant that it truly was real. It was going to happen.

"It is not every day that an Elite marries," Teyla said into the silence, her voice sounding rather empty to her own ears.

"She cares for you, Teyla," Charin replied. "She has seen you grow, as I have, from a young child to the strong warrior you are now."

Teyla did not feel like a strong warrior today.

"She would not miss your day."

Teyla nodded, her eyes still focusing across the yard on the dying light, feeling it overly representative of her own heart. "It is kind of her."

Charin moved slightly in Teyla's peripheral vision, perhaps nodding to that truth.

Silence fell between them, though Ketra's faint purring under Charin's loving attention was a warm sound to fill in the empty quiet.

"Maloo is here," Charin said into the moment.

Teyla pulled her eyes quickly from the yard and looked at her.

"He and his party arrived a short while ago," Charin continued. Her expression seemed closed, the face of a politician, working to hide any emotion other than gentle support.

"I thought the Genii were arriving tomorrow," Teyla responded, fixating on the fact to allow herself time to process how she felt about the news.

"They were unsure about General Maloo's schedule until this morning. Your father had guest quarters prepared anyway," Charin reported. "They have had late meal with your father and some of the other guests, but are now with your father in the Tea Room."

The suggestion being that Teyla should go and join them.

"I have to report in with the Sythus," Teyla found herself saying.

"Of course," Charin nodded immediately. "They know you have duties, but you should meet with him, if only briefly. You should meet the man likely to be your husband tomorrow. You may wish to sit alone with him, discover what kind of man he is."

Teyla looked away. "It does not matter. The contract is for our people."

"It is a contract that will bind _you_ with _him_," Charin corrected. "I have seen the latest contract myself and it still holds the standard practice that you will spend time with him and he with you. He will have to be on the Sythus with you, walk the ship's hallways with you, and you will walk the hallways on the Genii homeworld."

"The contract also states that his own military duties will reduce the number of days we spend together," Teyla pointed out quickly.

"Yes, but when together, are you simply going to ignore him? Will you not sit at dinner tables with him, share his company in the evenings, share family?"

Teyla glanced away again.

"He will not simply be a pet to haul around with you," Charin added.

Teyla looked sharply round at Charin's harsh words. "I do not haul Ketra around and I do not think of Maloo in such a way. We simply will live quite separate lives."

Charin tipped her head to the side slightly as if studying Teyla closely. "But still joined for life. I question whether you realise how long you may live, dearest Honoured Elite."

"We have discussed why I am doing this and what benefits it will bring."

"Yes," Charin replied. "But I feel that you have not truly considered what changes it will bring to _your _life. He will be present in your life, to whatever degree, for the rest of the years to come. You should meet the man."

It was of course logical and a valid point.

Teyla had read about Maloo's life from the official files, his strategies, his own profile that he had sent with his official greeting message, and also from the Elite records. He was a career military man and so they would have that in common.

However, she was an Elite. No, she would not nervously stay away, hiding until the last minute that she came face to face with her future husband.

"Of course," she stated to Charin and stood up, drawing courage to her like the familiar friend it was. "I shall go meet him now. Will you watch Ketra for me?"

Charin looked up at her and nodded. No smile, no pity, nothing in her expression but the politician.

Teyla feared she knew why.

"I shall remain here in this lovely warm spot with Ketra until you return," Charin replied.

"Thank you," Teyla replied before turning away.

She strode down the length of the courtyard, out of the strong last rays of sunlight and through the shadows of the falling evening. The door into the Governing Complex was open at the far end of the yard and she moved through it with purpose.

She moved swiftly through the complex, her feet moving without any conscious control on her part. She knew the route without thinking.

Inside, she prepared herself as if she were readying herself for battle. Each step brought forth her professional confidence, the mantle of her Elite status sliding over her like an old comforting blanket. It was her place of power and strength.

The doors to the Tea Room ahead, she could no longer feel the tug of hurtful or angry emotions. There were no more brooding dark thoughts and lost feelings.

She was Elite warrior Emmagan and she had made a decision for political and military reasons. She was making this small sacrifice for her people and her future. It was a vital and strong decision and she would meet it decisively.

The guards noticed her approach and opened the way to the Tea Room for her, the doors sweeping aside to reveal the very political space beyond.

She strode into it, one sword against her back and her shoulders square.

There was no emotion to this, nothing but swift sure decision, and she drank it up, needing that solid ground under her feet once more.

John had to be part of her past and with each step she knew she was moving away from it. Part of her hated that fact, but the rest of her knew it was needed. Knew it was her future.

She entered to her future now, her eyes moving swiftly towards where Father was standing up to greet her, whilst at his side, the Genii man also stood and turned towards her.

She had seen many images of Maloo, but no two dimensional image could give you a true impression of a person.

She watched in a slow, anticipatory moment as he turned towards her.

He wore the Genii uniform of course, all Genii did most of the time, but his was decorated with the symbols of his high military rank. His shoulders sported the bars of high office and as he turned, medals of valour and victory decorated his sleeves and chest.

His posture was picture perfect military precision, as was also held by the two Genii guards to his left. She knew the Genii honoured the Elite, and their respect was usually shown in the squareness of their shoulders and the sharp tallness of their spines.

Maloo's posture was the straightest she had ever seen.

He faced her and bowed immediately, which was a particular sign of honour from a Genii. They rarely bowed to anyone.

She inclined her head faintly "General Maloo, welcome to my Father's home," she greeted him, hearing her professional Elite tone in her voice. It could not be further from her confused and angry tone while arguing with John. There was no passion in her now, just professionalism.

"I am grateful, Honoured Elite," Maloo replied as he straightened up.

He looked somewhat older than he had in his images, but his eyes were sharp and his shoulders broad and strong. Everything about him screamed military strength and Genii determination.

"Leader Cowen of the Genii asked me to pass along his personal greetings," Maloo continued.

Teyla inclined her head slightly once more. She was not overly keen on the Genii supreme leader. She supposed she was going to have to get used to seeing Cowen more often now though.

"We are honoured for your presence for tomorrow's ceremony," she replied formally. "I hope that whatever the outcome tomorrow will be that your people will benefit from being part of these celebrations."

She was rather pleased with the lines she stepped over with that phrase, and she was faintly aware of Father's pointed attention on her.

"As do I, Honoured Elite," Maloo replied, and she sensed the faint discomfort on his part that she had implied that he may not win her choice in the Offering Ceremony. It was traditionally possible that other parties within the Alliance might put in an offer during the Offering Ceremony, but it was highly unlikely. The Genii had already made sure that their real competition had been negotiated out, and the rest had simply wanted trade contracts of some kind through Father directly. However, she would not bow to Maloo and essentially thank him for being the only one left to ask her for the Marriage contract.

"I understand that you will shortly be departing for the Outer Lantana battle after the ceremonies," Maloo asked.

"Yes, very quickly I am sorry to say," she lied.

"I have yesterday ordered several more ships of the Home Fleet from Genii out to the battle zone in hopes of assisting."

"That is good of your people," Teyla replied.

"To hold the line until the Elite and the main fleet can push to resolution," Maloo added.

Had that been a veiled comment that the Elite had taken a long time to get to the conflict area? She looked up at his face and into his silver-coloured eyes. His expression gave away little.

"I had hoped to join the battle myself," he added quickly, not allowing her much time to assess what he had meant.

"It is likely that you shall," Father put in quickly. "Honoured Elite, General Maloo was just telling me of his successes in space battles."

Teyla nodded. "I have read up on them."

Maloo seemed to grow a little taller at that. "Thank you, Honoured Elite. I seek only to serve my people."

And his people were the Genii.

Not the Alliance – _his_ people.

How very in keeping with the Genii military mindset.

"And you have done so admirably," she told him. He inclined his head again. "I understand that you turned down promotions to move you into the Genii Government in the past so that you could remain working in the military."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," he replied. "I still feel it is my place to know exactly what it is like on the front line of war, otherwise how am I to lead those who give their lives there?"

She nodded with some agreement. "And how would you see yourself assisting the Elite in the future?" She asked, not wanting to add 'once we are married'.

"I would hope that I could bring strategic assistance, my own people's military," – again with the separateness from the Alliance – "and any assistance in fighting that you may wish of me."

A noble offer and well answered from a Genii point of view. To the side of her view of Maloo, she saw Father faintly nod with approval at the answer.

"And what of your own future plans?" she pushed.

"I will do anything to assist my people and fight against the Wraith in any way I am able."

Another well tailored response that she had no doubt he had practised.

"And your family?" she kept going, not letting up the interview, the three of them still stood by the tea table. "I understand that your family have held great leaders."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," he replied. His back and shoulders remained solid, an unmoving straight line that seemed unyielding. "I have been brought up by the principles of serving my people, and by extension the Alliance."

Teyla nodded.

He was the best match the Genii would have had she realised. He was military, successful, but not overly political – just as she was – and he was clearly not an overly emotional man. His expressions were relaxed and confident, but not open or too expressive as to be open to misinterpretation. His feet remained planted in a strong stance, unmoving, as if under the watch of a commander.

This was important to him, but he showed little emotion.

He fitted the profile for a husband for her quite well – at least what they saw of her, what she herself had thought would best suit her, and the most suited to be the first to marry an Elite warrior in a Political Marriage.

She had difficulty imaging him smiling, or laughing at something amusing.

"And in your own time," she asked him, "what do you enjoy?"

The question threw him slightly, the smallest of frowns creasing his straight brow, but he recovered smoothly and quickly. "I give all of my time to my work, Honoured Elite."

"You take days away from your work though," she found herself pushing.

"There is the odd day, but on those, I try to complete the vast array of bureaucracy my position requires, and to see that my family is well," he added.

"Your mother still lives," Teyla recalled, and beside her she felt Father shift slightly. He was growing uncomfortable with her blunt questions, but she ignored his faint cautionary warning.

"Yes, she does," Maloo replied. She watched his face for any hint of emotion. "I was able to procure her a sizable home in which to grow old. My brother and his family also live with her. Our father died in battle against the Wraith."

"He died with honour," Teyla replied automatically and meaningfully. Maloo bowed his head, the comment from an Elite supposedly even more profound in its meaning.

"I walk in his steps, fighting for and serving my people," Maloo responded.

"And you do it well," Teyla replied.

Yes, he was everything a good Genii General should be, everything a military husband would best be. He would not make demands of her, he would make use of himself if among the Elite, and he would likely provide benefits to Athos and the Elite with Genii home military support.

He provided all that she had considered for the role of her political husband.

Yet...

She did not like him.

And she knew why.

He was respectful, strong, proud, successful and very much as expected – which though correct and what she had wanted, now seemed empty, obvious, and unchallenging.

Unlike John.

"Thank you for your time, General," Teyla said up to the grey eyes. "I am afraid I have duties to attend to this evening, but we will no doubt speak further tomorrow."

Maloo bowed deeply. "Thank you for your time, Honoured Elite."

She inclined her head and turned away, the doors opening for her at the hands of the Athosian guards.

She moved out of the Tea Room without looking back, knowing the Genii would take no insult in such behaviour, after all it was expected of the Elite and normal among the Genii.

Moving swiftly back down the corridor away from the closing doors, she found the Elite mantle now sliding off her shoulders as easily as it had fallen into place on the way here. She tried to hold onto it, to keep hold of her sense of professional strength, but the emotions and rapid thoughts pushed up and out.

As she reached the non-public areas of the complex, she slowed her pace slightly.

Maloo would suit her needs exactly. He was as advertised in his profile, and that was perhaps the problem – there had been no hint of more. He lived his life for his work, but there seemed little heart in it. He had seemed cold – respectful yes – but still...cold.

Which was how the Elite were seen of course – strong, impenetrable, and focused only on work.

Except, she realised, her fellow Elite were in fact far from that public appearance. She noted the time on a passing display. Her fellow Elite would likely be sitting down to their Late Meal together on the Sythus now. There would be technical discussions and strategic planning, but also ribbing, teasing, and honest complaints about things. They were family, and far more open than she had previously acknowledged.

But, they hid that from outsiders. The reputation of the Elite had a profound influence on others, giving strength and confidence to billions out of the shadow of the Wraith.

Yet, under that, the Elite were not cold and hard. They were just strong, controlled as needed, and honest.

She paused in her steps and turned to look back the way she had come.

John disliked the Genii, and not just because they had tried to take over his city and one of their number had tried to kill him. He was the antithesis of the Genii – he was open, warm, expressive, and honest.

For the first time, she saw the Genii in a new light – they were strong, military and successful, but they were also cold, manipulative, and concealed a great deal.

Deep down inside, something purely instinctive and honest whispered to her that Maloo was too Genii for her comfort.

Yet, there would be no other choice tomorrow.

She should have met him long before now.

Her plan, so well formed and logically decided, had not taken into account one vital issue – whether she liked her future husband. She had thought it unimportant, and in some ways it remained so, yet...

She stepped back out into the Family Courtyard and made her way in silence towards where Charin and Ketra sat in the last tiny patch of warm sunshine, both of them sitting with their eyes closed, basking happily.

Maloo had been just what Teyla had wanted, had ordered – a military, distant, uninvolved, and politically well placed husband.

She had gotten what she had ordered.

And she didn't like what she saw.

She sat back down on the bench beside Charin, the older woman not stirring in her basking.

Silence continued as Teyla's mind turned.

She had needed to push John away. It was necessary in order to maintain her Elite distance and professionalism. Yet, she had walked herself into a situation where that same distance and aloof professionalism had brought her an unappealing political husband.

Of late it seemed that nothing was going as she wanted, and nothing she did seemed to be right.

She frowned down at Ketra who opened one eye and sleepily leaned further against Charin's knee.

Charin continued to say nothing, and Teyla knew why. Charin would have seen almost immediately what Teyla had; Maloo was not suited to her.

Teyla felt that knowledge floating, unsaid, between her and Charin.

"It is what I decided upon," Teyla said quietly, holding onto that logic in the dying evening. That she did not like Maloo did not change the reasons why she had decided on this course of action.

"Yes, he is," Charin replied, her eyes opening slightly against the last light.

"I am not doing this for me," Teyla stated out loud. "He will suit the role."

"Yes, I suppose he will," Charin agreed.

Teyla frowned, looking round at her.

"Elkaska doesn't like him," Charin reported.

"Uncle has not liked any on the list," Teyla replied with her first smile in many long hours.

"I think he still believes you may one day become a trader," Charin smiled. "And in his eyes, no man is good enough for you."

"Maloo is not for _me_," Teyla corrected, "he is for our people and for the good of the Alliance."

Charin nodded faintly in agreement, then closed her eyes and lifted her face back up into the sunlight.

Silence fell between them once again.

"I should have met him sooner," Teyla muttered.

"Yes, you should have," Charin rebuked, "but you have always been that way – thinking you know best."

Teyla glared at Charin, even though the older woman could not see her with her eyes closed. "I do not."

Charin smiled. "My point exactly."

0000000  
TBC


	14. The Deepest Poison

00000

**Chapter 14 – The Deepest Poison**

There was little that irritated a warrior as much as useless inactivity. Watching the long uneventful hours pass by as the technicians struggled with Toshka's computer code was just such inactivity.

Halling had always been one for action, not just because of his Elite training, but his own people were never ones to sit around idle. His childhood memories of life in the Athosian camp were filled with daily walks for water, cutting of wood, ploughing of the growing land, the scattering of seed, and the eventual long hours of harvesting. Even during torrential rain, he recalled always being active inside the family tent as he had helped prepare bread, serve meals, repair the canvases and furniture, as well as help look after his younger brother. His brother who had been taken by the Wraith at such a young age.

It had been many years since Halling had let his mind dwell in those times, to remember his brother. It was still painful to recall Routh, as was the horrible fact that Halling could no longer truly remember Routh's face. It had been too long ago and Halling's own memory too youthful.

He remembered the terror of the culling though, and he remembered that Teyla had lost her mother during the same horrific attack. Routh had been young, and it had been years later when, having started his Elite training, that he had learnt that Wraith occasionally took young children to seal up in their Hives to allow them to grow a little older in order to provide a sweeter meal. That knowledge had horrified Halling and caused him to bring up his late meal that evening he had learnt such a terrible truth. To think that his brother had been taken and sealed away, restrained and scared, until he was old enough to satisfy a Wraith's appetite.

Halling had always hated the Wraith, but it had been that moment that had set him so securely on the path to battle the Wraith. He had not looked back, had not regretted the life he might have lived among his fellow Athosians. A life in which he might have married, become a father, and worked the fields of Athos. Yet, he also knew that such a life might have been far shorter than the one he lived now. Without the Elite and the Alliance, most Athosians now living would have been killed, or many never born at all.

Halling felt no regret in his choice, in his path in life, yet there were some days when he worried over how the Alliance he fought for was changing. It seemed that peace, as beautiful as it could be, was breeding idleness and greed. Some appeared to see freedom as an opportunity to take what they could from others.

Greed was an enemy that was difficult for Halling, and his fellow Elite, to battle.

As was computer code.

Or boredom.

Boredom was an unfamiliar adversary. But today he had nothing to bring to the struggle against the technological stalemate playing out before him. All he could do was remain present to represent the Elite and to try to be an interactive presence for the similarly bored Military Councillors.

At least Ronon had left with Oneakka. As much as Halling respected his Satedan friend, Ronon was known not to handle impasses very well. On Sateda that had led to great advancements for him as he had proven himself to be a warrior who would let nothing stop what he pursued. In the thick of battle or during the long purposeful waiting beforehand, Ronon could be patient. Halling had witnessed that in him, but waiting long boring hours watching frustrated technicians was not something Ronon was designed to handle.

Ronon's departure over an hour ago had calmed the tension in the room somewhat, but it had done nothing to bring resolution any faster.

However, the promise of resolution might just be ahead for Oneakka, Ronon, Edfu and Seeal had returned not too long ago, Malaca in their custody. Halling had no details yet if that meant that the Manarian was indeed responsible for this complex code, but at least it was something.

However, as usual, Oneakka was taking an extensively long time to process the suspect. Halling was in support of thoroughness, but after having waited in here for almost nine hours now, he was ready to see something, anything happen, and quickly.

The doorway slid open and Halling looked round with anticipation. Edfu stepped through alone. Halling headed towards him, Seifer at his side.

"Honoured Elite," Edfu greeted them.

"Hasn't Oneakka finished yet?" Seifer asked, his own patience stretched.

"Malaca is almost processed," Edfu confirmed. "We needed to be particularly sure he was not concealing anything. Seeal was not exaggerating about the man's skills. His workshop was quite impressive."

Halling had read all he could on the Manarian Malaca while they had been gone. The man was obviously the genius that Seeal had suggested him to be, having won numerous awards and honours for inventiveness and intellectual advancements among his people throughout his life. The official records did not include much about the man personally, but they did indeed suggest that perhaps Malaca had little in the way for social and personal pursuits. He was frequently published among the technological journals on Manaria, and it seemed that a considerable number of significant link upgrades had been initiated solely by his work. It might just be possible that they had found the creator of the complex frustrating code.

"However, we also found some unexpected items in his workshop," Edfu continued, his tone grave.

Halling shifted slightly closer, forming a small huddle of the three of them. "What items?"

"Military hardware, including weaponry," Edfu replied.

Halling had not expected that. He glanced at Seifer to see his fellow Elite frown.

"Elite?" Seifer asked, no doubt thinking about the recent stores they had discovered had been stolen from their own ship.

"No," Edfu confirmed. "Or at least, not so far. The weaponry is Satedan, and we also discovered several pieces of Genii weaponry interfaces, as well as some hull plating. We didn't wait around to catalogue everything. I have the hub station's Security Lead keeping the workshop sealed, discreetly."

"Can the Lead be trusted?" Halling asked.

"I believe so, I have worked with him twice before. He was a commander in the Fleet for many years before a knee injury returned him to Manaria. I have already spoken with Maja at the Training Facility, she is sending two of our best investigators to work through the workshop. Again quietly."

Halling sighed heavily. The Sector 18 hub station was partly owned by Saoka, and once again military equipment was being pushed through his civilian territory. Halling wondered if Si knew yet.

"He could lead us to the evidence we need about the High Council's new ships," Seifer suggested with a touch of excitement.

Halling became aware that the room was silent behind him, other than the tapping and quiet muttering between the working techs around the computer core. He looked round to see that the three Military Councillors were watching and listening in.

"That is possible," Edfu replied to Seifer. "However, we have only one individual's suspicion on the use of these stolen pieces." And an individual who seemed to be linked with the very problem. How trustworthy was Saoka? How angry was Si going to be about this?

"What other use is there for military ship components and weaponry?" The Xindan Military Councillor asked from behind Halling.

Halling had to concede the point. It was beginning to seem that each way they turned lately they were finding more evidence of the growing greed and betrayal within the Alliance.

It had all started with Iketani.

She had used her Elite status and sexual allure to manipulate people to her own means, to corrupt. If Seeal was to be believed, and so far the database from Dreamstation was confirming all the woman had told them, then Iketani had been working her underhand dealings for at least seven years prior to her death.

Seven years of silent betrayal.

Seven years of poison slipping into the Alliance's halls of power.

In that, the Elite had a part of the blame. They should have seen Iketani for what she was, and Halling still regretted his own blindness in that regard. It hadn't been complete ignorance of course, for many of them had not liked the woman's presence and thought her less than honest. But no Elite had suspected, or even considered, that one of their number could have been using their power and influence in such evil ways.

The traitor had even worked with a Wraith Queen. There was no greater betrayal.

It seemed that so much had been corrupted by her.

But, wasn't that just too simple an explanation? Could one corrupt something that was not already open to corruption? Open to greed and self interest into which Iketani had played? How many had Iketani used or even assisted to higher positions of power of the years? How many favours had been granted, how many threats made, or enemies removed at an opportune moment? How much human blood had been on Iketani' hands?

It was exceptionally worrying, but there was no way to ignore the disease that had been found within the Alliance from her actions. The mission now was to find out how deep the poison had reached and to cut out all that it might have infected.

In that at least they were gaining some ground, discovering more of the hidden reaches of the poison. It worried Halling that a man such as Malaca, with extensive access to the Alliance-wide Links system, might be one such corrupted individual.

How far did this deceit truly stretch? Would its reveal save the Alliance, or had it killed too much that the whole would be lost?

Behind Edfu there was movement in the open doorway and Halling was gratefully relieved to finally see Ronon step into the room, the flush of success across his smile. Behind Ronon, Malaca was escorted in by Oneakka's hand on the back of the man's collar.

Malaca was similar enough to his record images as he was in flesh, but it was only in person that Halling saw how skinny the man was, how his hair was somewhat unkempt, and he had grease or charcoal smeared over one cheek. He wasn't in restraints, which was interesting. It also explained Oneakka's rougher handling than usual, or was Oneakka trying to send another kind of message.

Malaca walked with his head down, but his eyes were moving under his brow, sweeping around to see as much as he could with his head pushed slightly forward by Oneakka's grip.

Behind them, last through the door, was Seeal. In her hands she held two small pieces of equipment. She was frowning at one, turning it over. Halling suspected instantly that they had been taken off Malaca, and he recalled all too clearly that similar devices had been found on her when she had been processed as Malaca had just been.

It worried him somewhat that she was handling evidence. All too quickly had this woman moved from a prisoner of the Sythus' brig to now working for them. Halling had not spent much time around her, but he trusted Oneakka without question, and Oneakka believed she was to be trusted. Or at least as much as was smart. Seeal had in truth saved Halling's own life twice now, and for that he felt he should give her some leeway. However, she should not be handling evidence, since she was still the one with a criminal record. It was all very well her assisting them in order for her to gain a clean record, but that did not mean she was wholly trustworthy.

Yet, Oneakka was keeping a watch over her, and Halling did trust his friend's judgement. Though, Halling had to admit that the near constant bickering and arguing between Oneakka and Seeal was beginning to grate on him somewhat. The problem was that Oneakka always liked to gain the last word in conversations, his opinion always directly and clearly stated.

It had been Oneakka's personal determined campaign to hunt down Iketani' influences that had led to these recent discoveries of corruption. That blind obsession had paid off for them it seemed, yet the same stubbornness often had the man arguing over small points. As he seemed to want to do with Seeal, who had her own stubborn, annoying need to get in the last word.

However, the two appeared to be able to work together well enough, quite successfully so. Halling was truthfully incredibly proud of Oneakka for his determined search and grateful that Oneakka had indeed kept at his hunt for so long. So many of the other Elite had doubted him in his obsession, but Halling, Si and Teyla had had trust in Oneakka's abilities.

At the thought of Teyla, Halling glanced at the time displayed nearby. The Sythus needed to leave for Athos within the next hour to be there in time. There would be plenty of time, but the Sythus had to run a complete scan and patrol of the Athosian system before the ceremonies. Halling and Si would be down in Tjaru for the festivities, and the Sythus would remain in orbit. It would be a clear and present message that the Elite supported the contract.

However, in truth Halling was not entirely sure what such a contract would really bring the Elite in any real physical, useful manner. But, the psychological and political message was clear. Perhaps Athos and the Elite's involvement in creating stronger political ties within the Alliance might work as a counterbalance against the growing corruption. That was his hope, just as much as he knew it was Teyla's.

He glanced at the time again as Edfu hurried the technicians out of the room, leaving the chairs empty around the abandoned computer core.

This time tomorrow the Sythus would be heading away from Athos, on its way to Outer Lantana, and Teyla would be married.

Some days it seemed that everything was changing.

Oneakka _assisted_ Malaca down into a vacated chair at the centre of the far side of the table supporting Toshka's computer core. Malaca sat down heavily and glanced over the computer core while Oneakka took up position behind the man's chair, his close intimidating presence no doubt itching at the back of Malaca's neck. Seeal slid back into her previous seat at the far corner of the table, her arms and legs crossed with seeming boredom. Meanwhile, Edfu had moved across to standing directly opposite Malaca, watching him over the computer core.

Halling studied Malaca as the man glanced over the computer core with no apparent recognition, but then most computers probably looked the same when striped to their processors and memory cores. All of the abandoned computer tablets had been turned over to conceal the complex coding displayed on their screens.

"Malaca," Edfu began, drawing the man's attention up to him. Malaca's mouth was shut, his lips pressed together as if he was holding in words he wanted to say. "You are on the Elite ship, Sythus, and these individuals behind me are honoured members of the Military Council."

Malaca's dark eyes slid over the Councillors stood behind Edfu and then across to Halling and Seifer. He didn't look Halling directly in the eye, but Halling saw the gaze take in the weapons and tattoos displayed by him and Seifer.

"I don't understand why I'm here," Malaca said back up to Edfu. There was the faintest shaky edge to his voice, but for the most part it was strong and slightly defiant.

"Really?" Seeal muttered doubtfully from Malaca's right.

"You are here," Edfu explained calmly and politely, but firmly, "because the Elite have been undertaking an investigation of corruption within certain Alliance businesses."

Malaca frowned at that. Like most, he was probably surprised that the Elite would involve themselves in such internal, somewhat mundane, activities.

"Corruption that has resulted in loss of life and even involvement with Wraith," Edfu added.

Malaca's frown slid away and his face noticeably slacked with shocked worry. "Wraith?"

"As such," Edfu continued, ignoring his question, "you can understand the weight and significance when the Elite find themselves at _your_ door."

Malaca's eyes slid back towards Halling and Seifer. "I've never even seen a Wraith," he told them. "I was too young when they last culled Manaria."

"But others have," Edfu replied, "and our tracing of their activities has led us to you."

Malaca licked his lips. "I only work code and circuits," he said with more confidence than he outwardly showed.

"For whoever pays you," Oneakka stated from right behind Malaca and the man twitched.

Malaca took a breath and lifted his gaze straight up to Edfu again. "I have no control over what customers may do with my work after they take it," he stated carefully. "I only produce work to fit the briefs they give me."

It was logical for him at least.

Seeal huffed from the far end of the table. "A brief like how to break into the most secure Alliance locks?"

Malaca's gaze slid to her. "What goes on between competing companies is none of my business. I just produce what they ask me."

"Like breaking into a bank?" Seeal pushed. Halling saw Oneakka's eyes slide to her with interest.

"I have never broken into any bank, or engaged in any criminal activity myself," Malaca stated, returning his attention to Edfu.

Edfu might have started to reply, but apparently Ronon had had enough. He leant forward at the closest end of the table and slammed his fists down on the surface, shocking Malaca and knocking half the computer tablets off the table onto the floor. Oneakka hadn't flinched, but Seeal had jumped and now glared wide-eyed at Ronon with annoyance.

"Where'd you get the guns?" Ronon all but shouted at Malaca. "The Satedan weaponry you stole from my people."

Malaca sat up from the flinched position he had fallen into at Ronon's outburst. "They were sent to me through official channels."

"Liar," Ronon spat back.

"I was told they were official," Malaca insisted. "He had papers and the seal of the High Council on the _legal_ agreement to trade military hardware."

"Because you care about legal papers," Seeal told Malaca.

"WHO?" Ronon shouted. "Who gave you the weapons?"

Malaca's eyes slid to the computer in front of him, giving away his answer before he said anything.

Halling felt a burst of victory – finally something was connecting. Toshka not only had connections to Iketani, but he was also involved in the secret movement of military equipment through civilian channels.

"He had official papers," Malaca insisted again.

"Who?" Edfu pushed this time, though he must have seen Malaca's gaze on the core.

Malaca's dark eyes lifted to him. "Esna Toshka," he confirmed.

"And you made this computer for him," Edfu stated.

Malaca didn't reply straight away. Ronon leant further forward and Halling was almost certain he heard a growl.

"I simply created a new code for storing secure information," Malaca replied quickly.

"Open it up," Edfu nodded down to the core. "Give us access."

Malaca's eyes dropped to the core again. "Customers set their own passwords."

"And you set your own behind them," Seeal added. "Your own little backdoor into the computer, built into the code. Don't pretend otherwise."

Malaca glanced at her and then back to Edfu. "Isn't breaking into someone's computer illegal?" He asked.

Seeal snorted loudly at the question.

"Malaca," Edfu replied calmly, as if talking to a friend. "Do you think the Elite and Military Council require anyone's permission to access traitorous material that compromises the Alliance?"

Malaca's teeth appeared around his upper lip as he worried on it for a moment. "The papers with the hardware held the High Council's seal. How is that any less official?"

Seeal leant forward, setting one long forearm along the edge of the table as she faced Malaca. "Come on Malaca, you're not a stupid man. Do you expect us to believe that you had no doubts about what Toshka was asking you to do?"

"He had _official_ papers and he's a respected businessman in the Alliance," Malaca insisted again.

"Okay, Seeal replied. "Let me guess how your 'employment' and involvement with Toshka began. You probably first heard about him looking for someone with your skills through someone else, they probably mentioned it casually in passing. They said that, as a gift to you, that they'd mention you to him. Then, out of nowhere, one day Toshka messages you, invites you to one of his big business bases, probably the large factory on Manaria that he owns."

Malaca looked round at Seeal with a frown.

"You get welcomed professionally, shown round the place, given lots of compliments and possible suggestions of work you could do for them," Seeal continued with her story. "Then Toshka takes you into his private office, probably gives you some expensive drink or food, and it makes you feel special." She smiled patronisingly. "He asks your opinion on some technical issue and you offer an answer free of charge, and he's _so_ grateful. Maybe it was then that he asked you to make this code for him, and he offers you more currency than anyone had before."

Halling angled his head to see Malaca's face a little clearer. The computer genius was watching Seeal with his full surprised attention.

"You come up with this crazy advanced code and Toshka's still ever so grateful, full of praise and promises of more referrals of his other powerful rich friends. Which is probably when he confided in you that he was involved in some more interesting projects, work for the High Council perhaps. That he would like you to be involved, quietly, to help out with some small little things. But, its secret work and he says he hopes he can believe and trust in you."

Halling frowned faintly at Seeal. How much of this was her making a guess, probably borne from her experience on Dreamstation, and how much might be real direct knowledge?

"But, about that time," she continued, "Toshka stops communicating directly with you and his messages are delivered through third parties, probably through the heavies that deliver the shipments to you. Of course the contents of the shipments are never accurately labelled on the outside for the hub station's security to see. Because everyone trusts you on the hub, you're the golden genius working on the Links system, and you're always receiving components.

"But, you've become a techno mule," Seeal told him. "Taking in hot goods, the electronics of which you wipe and replace with whatever programmes Toshka asked you to replace them with. More heavies come and pick up the pieces when you've finished and you get a nice large bag of physical currency to spend. Am I close?"

Malaca took a second to answer. "I just did the work I was asked to do."

"Paid to do without asking any questions," Seeal corrected. "You were used because you didn't want to know what you were doing, you just pressed your buttons on orders and did what you were told. Like a good little technician."

Malaca glared at her. Seeal's approach was somewhat obvious, insulting the man's pride, but it was clear that her unique form of bored scornful storytelling had gotten to the man.

"If you think these honoured warriors, with their lifetimes of experience against monsters, are going to believe that you had no idea that what you were doing was illegal, then you're not the genius I thought you were for creating this code," Seeal added. Again, it was an obvious approach, a baiting, open throw down and insult, but Halling watched Malaca's nostrils flare.

"Because this code is the work of a genius," Seeal continued quickly. "And clearly Toshka picked you with good reason, but half of that reason was because he knew he could use you. That you'd cover for him, keep quiet, and not tell anyone."

Malaca glared at her. "I thought that was your role," he challenged her. "On Dreamstation wasn't it?"

Seeal nodded. "And working along with the Tile Brothers."

That seemed to make Malaca pause.

"You think I'm here on this ship because the Elite are upset about the gambling and prostitutes on Dream?"

Malaca frowned. "Is this about the Elite woman?"

"What woman?" Oneakka demanded immediately.

Malaca peered up towards Oneakka. "The crazy one, Ika something."

"Iketani?" Edfu asked.

Malaca nodded looking round, frowning deeply, his eyes on the computer code. "Her tattoos were around her throat. She came to the hub once."

The tension in the room seemed to shift around Halling.

"With Toshka?" Edfu asked.

"No, she just turned up one day," Malaca replied up to him. "Appeared in my workshop like a ghost. Guess she used one of those code crackers you used," he added to Seeal.

"What did she want?" Oneakka asked heavily, his voice deep and carrying all the anger he still felt towards Iketani.

"I'm not really sure," Malaca replied. "She talked about looking after the Alliance, doing good work for everyone's sake." He was looking confused. "She bought a few pieces of tech, umm, I think one was a multi-interfacer I had developed for Genii computers, and I can't remember the other. It was well over a year ago."

"And she was probably seducing you at the time too," Seeal put in. "That distracts a guy."

A faint blush rose across Malaca's cheekbones. Halling had the suspicion that Malaca was not approached all that often by females as intense as Iketani had been.

"You called her "crazy"," Edfu asked. "Why?"

"She was..." Malaca paused, searching for the right words, "scary and...unpredictable. She said that she would have work for me in the future, but she never contacted me again."

"When did Toshka first employ you?" Edfu asked.

Malaca looked up with realisation. "Not long afterwards. He never mentioned her."

Halling glanced at Oneakka. Iketani had been involved with the stolen military hardware? How long had this been going on?

"So you have been working for Toshka for over a year?" Edfu asked for clarification.

Malaca nodded. "I have records in my computer; I can tell you the exact date. The date Iketani visited as well. I note everything down."

"We will have all your records already," Edfu informed him.

Malaca smiled faintly up at them. "Not if you can't break this code," he indicated the core in front of him.

"It's breakable," Seeal told him. "It's just that the Elite are on something of a tight time schedule here."

Malaca frowned again. "You're after Toshka."

"He has become a person of interest," Edfu replied. "And, as such, you are now as well."

"I was visited by an Elite warrior and then Toshka had papers from the High Council," Malaca repeated. "I thought I was working for the right people."

"You thought wrong," Ronon growled at him. "You're as much as a traitor as they are."

Malaca was leaning slightly away from Ronon's end of the table. His eyes were moving across the computer core and then over to Seeal. He looked up to Edfu and then across to Halling. "I would never knowingly work for anyone who was helping the Wraith, but I can see that I've found myself in a difficult position. However, I can see that you are reasonable honoured people and can forgive me my ignorance."

"You mean your indifference," Seeal corrected.

"If _she_ has found a way to work her freedom by assisting you," Malaca ignored Seeal's comment but gestured at her with one hand, "then I am hoping that I can as well."

"You will tell us everything you've done, everything you've touched, and everyone you've talked to related to Toshka," Ronon stated with barely suppressed violence.

Malaca licked his lips nervously, but there was growing determination in his intelligent eyes. He understood the position he was in and was working out how to save himself. "I am a simple computer worker, I am only interested in that, but in that area I can help you." His eyes lifted to Edfu. "You want into this code, I will get you in, but I have more to give."

"What do you have?" Edfu asked gently, as if they were having a relaxed afternoon conversation.

Malaca licked his lips again, his eyes moving over the Military Councillors. "I have heard talk from those in the workshop, bits and pieces said that I've put together over the years. I know that the High Council and the Military Council, and the Fleet before it was formed, are at odds. I'm not stupid, the only reason I can think now as to why they had me working on the military hardware and components was to make them untraceable and protect them from standard Military interference frequencies."

"Are you saying you have a way to trace them?" Edfu asked.

Halling looked at Oneakka again, seeing his friend locked in on every word from Malaca.

"I can't trace them," Malaca told them. "But, there's something else I can offer."

"You built in a backdoor into that code too didn't you," Seeal told him.

Malaca glanced at her and back to Edfu. "They won't know it's there, I'm very good at what I do."

"What are you offering?" Edfu pushed.

"All my knowledge of who employed me over the years, what I heard, and a programme that will get you into all of their acquired components that I worked on," Malaca tempted them. "And in return, I get to keep my position on the hub station. I will do no more work for anyone but the Manarian authorities, or without your permission, no more extra projects."

Edfu looked round. Halling met his gaze and then over to Oneakka. Oneakka nodded faintly, giving permission. Halling pondered it. Malaca was an intelligent man, but not of that much interest to them beyond the information he was willing to give. Now he had been marched out of the hub station by Elite it will frightened off those who would have employed him, so it was unlikely that he would be used by his former employers again. He would have to be watched and probably protected as well. It would be annoying use of resources for Enforcement, or even Division, but he could also be useful. He could be used for computer work, in return for him keeping his standing on Manaria.

Halling looked round to Seifer who shrugged with indifference. Halling looked to the Military Councillors. There were only nods of agreement. Halling nodded silently down to Malaca.

Malaca let out a heavy relieved breath and reached for a computer tablet on the table in front of him. He turned it over, revealing the code that had been resisting for hours. He began to tap away on it. "I will be able to keep my position on the hub?" He asked, even though he was already working on the code.

Halling noticed at Seeal was leant foward watching her own tablet interface through which she could watch Malaca's work. Halling hoped he could trust her to ensure that Malaca wasn't doing anything that would compromise the ship. However, he wasn't so sure he had that faith.

He looked to Oneakka, who was watching over Malaca's lowered head, but Halling knew that Oneakka's skills were in physical engineering, not computer code.

"Yes, in return for everything you've promised, and especially the backdoor programme," Edfu told Malaca. "Which will have to be proven using the components we found in your workshop."

Malaca nodded up from the tablet, his fingers pausing in his work. "And the Manarian authorities? If they think-"

"We will tell them you have been graciously assisting the Elite, that you informed us of illegal activities. We will follow through with an internal investigation on Manaria anyway, Toshka's factory in particular."

Malaca nodded and returned to his work. He tapped away only to frown at the tablet. "Tacky novices," he muttered and began tapping away again with more feeling.

Seeal looked up with a slight smile. "Toshka tried to put a block over Malaca's backdoor into the computer."

"I'm insulted he would think this would work," Malaca muttered.

"It would work against most people," Seeal told him.

"It's not a cause for concern?" Edfu asked. "Toshka put explosive elements in the casing of the computer."

Malaca frowned angrily at that. "Oh did he?" he muttered derisively, apparently forgetting himself with his work. Clearly Toshka's willingness to destroy Malaca's complex code did not go down to well.

Halling looked to Seeal, though Edfu had picked up a tablet to watch the work as well.

"The patch over the backdoor isn't an obstacle for Malaca," Seeal told the room.

Halling relaxed a fraction.

Malaca pressed once more on his tablet and sat back. "You have complete access."

Oneakka reached down and took the tablet from Malaca's hand, frightening the man out of his smugness. Malaca cringed into his seat.

Edfu put down his tablet. "Malaca, you will be escorted to the local planet's surface, where Enforcement officers are already waiting for you. You will provide all you promised and in return you will keep you position and standing with your people. You will, however, need protection now and we will be keeping a close eye on you in the future."

Malaca nodded nervously.

Halling looked to the open doorway to the corridor where several security personnel had been waiting since Malaca had been brought in. Halling nodded to them and they quickly entered.

Malaca moved around the cable hanging from Oneakka's tablet and slipped up and out of his chair, avoiding Ronon as much as he could. The Satedan crossed his large muscular arms and glared at the Manarian.

Malaca edged around Ronon, seeming eager now to get to the waiting hands of security, but as he moved away from Toshka's core, he looked to Seeal. "You saw enough to work with the code now?" He asked.

Seeal looked up from her own tablet. "I think so. I'll know where to find you if we get stuck."

Malaca nodded. "It is some of my best work," he sounded almost sad to be leaving it behind.

"Then you should have provided it to the Elite, not Toshka," Seeal told him.

Halling approved of that reply, but wondered if it was more for show than from any real feeling on her part. He looked to Oneakka, but his friend was too engrossed in whatever interesting information he was finding in Toshka's computer. Halling itched to move across the room and look for himself, but at the same time he was tired of Toshka's computer.

He glanced at the time again. The sooner they left for Athos the better. He should go up to Central Station and speak with Si, then get the Sythus moving as soon the Councillors were off the ship.

As Malaca was led from the room, the Military Councillors moved forward and picked up discarded tech tablets for themselves, looking at Toshka's database.

"That went well," Halling summarised as he approached the intent table.

"Very well," Edfu replied, looking up from his tablet. The Military Councillors were talking animatedly over their tablets. "And with good help," Edfu added with a smile towards Seeal. Her head was down though, looking through the computer files.

"Seeal," Edfu added, drawing her attention up to him. "I can see why you were such an effective Security Lead on Dreamstation." The compliment was smooth and accompanied by a smile. Edfu was very good with people, having a naturally kind disposition, but it was obvious to Halling that Edfu was not simply being kind towards Seeal.

Halling had to admit that Seeal had been useful. "It was good work," he offered to her with a slight nod. He still wasn't entirely sure about her trustworthiness.

Seeal smiled back to him though, or was most of the smile directed towards Edfu at his side? "Just remember to put it down on my file to help get me my clean record."

Edfu chuckled. "I will make sure that it is. And I am sure you will only add to the list further. For example, I still have more questions about your report on those carry waves and codes that Karthig used."

Seeal frowned faintly as she returned her attention to her tablet. "I'm not sure where I'll be after this," she shrugged, "but I'll try and help."

"She'll be on this ship," Oneakka stated, apparently having been listening in despite his intense focused work on his tablet interface. "Working on her database of criminals for the Elite."

Seeal looked back up to Edfu and smiled tightly. "_Apparently_ I'll be on this ship," she said with no small amount of sarcasm. Halling felt his shoulders tightening at the prospect of another verbal sparring match beginning between her and Oneakka.

"Perhaps we could converse by link then," Edfu suggested, the flirtation somewhat overt to Halling's tastes.

Seeal looked up to Oneakka. "If I've got enough free time," she said pointedly and looked back to Edfu, "I'll help." She returned her attention back down to her tablet.

Halling glanced at Edfu. It seemed to him that Seeal wasn't responding all that well to Edfu's advances.

"I look forward to it," Edfu concluded, not appearing to be put off.

"We need to leave for Athos shortly," Halling reminded the security man.

Edfu nodded. "Now we have access to the core, I will head back to the hub station, collect what we need from Malaca's workshop with the investigators, and begin some repair work with the Manarian officials to keep to our word with Malaca. I'll leave my techs to stay with Toshka's core as it leaves the Sythus."

Halling nodded.

"I'll report directly on Malaca and his workshop this evening," Edfu promised.

"Thank you for your presence, Lead Edfu," the Xindan Military Councillor added.

"Thank you for your patience, Honoured Councillors," Edfu replied as he moved away. Halling noticed him glance back to Seeal, but she was still engrossed in the database.

Halling didn't bother to pick up a tablet for himself, there were plenty of eyes on it, so he simply watched Ronon's tablet on his right.

"Malaca didn't just give us open access to the computer," Seeal explained. "He opened up every file and folder for us. We have access to everything."

Halling watched as Ronon passed through the files. They were labelled with codes, indecipherable, but what was in them was obvious.

"There are hundreds of records of currency transactions paid to Toshka by a large number of individuals," a Councillor was saying. "This name is familiar; he is in the lead security detail in the High Council building on Aria."

"Who is clearly not satisfied at home," Seeal muttered over her tablet. Ronon had opened up the file himself and various compromising pictures appeared.

"And the woman is, I believe, the Rosenthalian Ambassador to the Genii," Halling noted.

"She certainly does thorough work," Seeal noted.

"There is more than enough information to prove blackmail at the least on Toshka's part," the Xindan Councillor stated. "We will order Toshka's arrest immediately and the core will be handed over to Enforcement. Do you agree, Honoured Elite Oneakka?" She asked formally, but politely.

All eyes turned to Oneakka. He looked up from his tablet. "We will keep a copy of all of this."

The Councillor exchanged a look with her colleagues and nodded. "We agree."

"The copy has to go on a completely separate memory drive," Seeal put in with a touch of concern in her voice. "Just in case there's some other backdoor or viral programming that could infect the Elite systems."

"I'll organise it," Seifer stated eagerly. He moved away, his orders already being relayed over his radio link at his collar.

Halling understood Seifer's need to get out of this room finally.

"There is a wealth of information here," another Councillor muttered. "It will take considerable time to go through it all."

"We have enough to end the matter with Toshka," the Xindan Councillor replied, "and to absolve the Elite publically. And we shall make it very public."

"Should it be?" Seeal asked, seeming not to worry about joining in the Councillors' conversation.

All eyes lowered to her at the corner of the table, the only one sat down.

"I mean, you've just found more evidence that the High Council might be behind, or linked to, this stealing of military hardware. If you make Toshka's arrest public, everyone he's been blackmailing will either run and hide, or majorly cover up their tracks."

"It won't matter," Oneakka stated as he lowered his tablet. Halling noticed that there was an image of Iketani on it. It looked like she was walking through a space station's hallway. "We have enough to find them easily, and they'll know it."

Seeal looked up at him. "You want to frighten the High Council," she interpreted his words.

One of Oneakka's eyebrows lifted slightly as his only response.

"Then they'll only hide their secret stash of space ships better," Seeal replied only to pause. "Which will probably mean moving them," she considered out loud.

"Or removing those who might be linked to where they are hidden," Ronon added. Halling glanced down at the tablet his friend held to see a quite considerably compromising image of a well known Satedan commander. It was an image that Halling instantly wished he could forget. How could anyone find _that _pleasurable?!

"Either way, a trail will form," the Xindan Councillor concluded. "They will have to either put the project to ground, or conceal it further. While we, meaning Enforcement," she quickly corrected, "now have information enough to track matters."

Halling took in a breath. "The Elite might have a line of enquiry as well."

It was just whether Si would be willing to push Saoka. The timing would be important too. Timing which was fast running out.

He looked to the display of the time again. "We need to leave for Athos very shortly."

Oneakka nodded, but his attention was already focused back on his tablet.

Footsteps through the doorway behind Halling made him look around to see that the techs had returned, and that they were carrying pieces of computer. This would be the equipment to copy Toshka's database.

Halling didn't need to be here for this.

"I shall head up to Central Station," he informed the room.

"We shall leave as soon as Toshka's database has been copied," one Councillor stated. "Thank you, Honoured Elite."

Halling inclined his head to the Councillors, but with Ronon, he patted a hand on the man's thick upper arm. "I shall see you tomorrow, in Tjaru?" He asked quietly.

Ronon nodded, glancing round. "Can't believe she's doing it."

Halling had to nod at that. An Elite marrying into a Political Marriage was new enough, but that it was Teyla would still take some time to assimilate.

Moving through the growing number of techs entering the room with various cables and fast steps, Halling glanced back over his shoulder to see them all buzzing around Toshka's computer. Seeal was stood in the middle of it, pointing out things and apparently in the middle of a disagreement with one male tech about how certain connections should be made. Amidst it all, Oneakka stood, tablet still in hand as he looked through Toshka's material.

Halling had to smile at the island that was his friend, whose determination had brought them so much information. He had no doubt that it would keep many people in Enforcement and Division busy for a long time. After all his angry, obsessed days of hunting, Oneakka finally had what he wanted and Halling was pleased simply for that fact.

It was a rare day that Oneakka seemed happy, but today, it was clear to Halling that his friend was very happy.

Of course, that would only mean that Oneakka would now spend even more obsessive hours going through Toshka's database, as well as the one from Dreamstation.

Whatever made him happy.

Halling headed out of the room, the techs swiftly giving him space. It was time now to focus on another friend though, for if their twice daily links had told Halling anything, it was that Teyla was in need of support tomorrow.

He wondered what it was going to be like having her Genii husband on the ship...

000000

Yeah, sleep was never going to happen, so John hadn't even tried. Instead he'd taken the remains of his six pack of beers and headed out to sit in the warm darkness of a pier.

He had made sure to pick a new spot to sit in tonight, because he didn't want to be anywhere that might have some memories of her that could ruin his beer buzz.

Which was stupid, because the memories just went with him.

The beauty of the dark cityscape and ocean didn't help make him feel any better though.

Tonight, the magical presence of an Ancient alien city that he had the power to fly wasn't enough. The sea breeze wasn't enough and even the usually soothing beer buzz didn't seem to make much of a dent on the swirling aching mess going around inside his head.

He swirled the last of beer number five around in the bottom of its can and then threw it back, the taste familiar and the warmth running down his throat with the hope of oblivion.

He knew he needed far more for that, but hey, why not try.

The can empty, he crushed it in his fist, the sound satisfying and the little bit of aggression even more so. The metal bit into his palm as he held tightly onto it.

It wasn't like he hadn't known it was all going to end eventually. Course it was.

He just hadn't expected...

In his nightmares it had been Wraith, gunfire, or another shiny blade burying into her back that would take her from him.

He hadn't expected a breakup. Not a shouting match and storming out.

Not her marrying another man and his having to dress up and watch tomorrow.

He hadn't seen that coming. Hadn't expected the bitterness, the ache in his chest, and the horrible taste of heartbreak burning far brighter than the beer ever could.

He should never have touched her, never have kissed her that first time...

He threw the crushed empty can, uncaring about the environment or whatever right now. It wasn't like there were any seagulls to swallow the thing. He watched the can disappear down into the shadowy water below, the ocean and darkness engulfing it without a stir.

Gone without anyone noticing, without making any difference to anyone.

He rubbed both his hands up into his hair, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. In his head he could hear her frustratingly poised words, her perfect unnatural calm as she told him about her future husband, as if it didn't matter, as if she didn't care.

All while he had felt like the floor had opened up under him and had been trying to drag him into a twisting spinning hell.

He'd been so stupid. Thinking it had meant more to her, that it had all been more than great sex and laughs; that they could have kept things going despite the massive differences in their lives and cultures. That the differences wouldn't get in the way of their relationship.

Except it was never supposed to be a relationship. There had been no promises.

He rubbed his palms roughly over his eyes and exhaled loudly into the dark empty night as he looked out past the end of the pier. The sea air rushed over his face, cooling his skin, but especially over the dampness in the corner of his eyes.

He was an idiot. She was an Elite warrior, off fighting Wraith, her life wrapped up in the Alliance and Athos.

God, what was he going to do? If he was kept on with Woolsey visiting Athos, he was going to have to walk the same hallways, make small talk with her dad, all while knowing that at any moment she could suddenly appear. With her husband...

He reached for the last beer, opened it quickly and lifted the sweet brew to his lips. He kept drinking, wanting to down the whole thing. The taste of Earth, of his old home.

Almost at the point of choking, he finally had to lower the can, all but the last few dregs now gurgling down into his stomach.

The memory of her cheek against his stomach surfaced, with her beautiful smile as she had listened to his stomach after he had downed some of that evening Athosian tea.

Her laugh.

Her noble profile, the curve of her ear, the length of her throat...

He shut his eyes again and crushed the last can, the dregs splattering over his hand.

If only there was a way to just make it all go away, all the soft memories, the hot sultry ones, and the bright technicolour detail of her body. Of the way she had tasted, her hands on him, the feel inside of her, and the whisper of his name on her sweet swollen lips.

The pier swung around him, his head spinning and the wind around him cold and unfeeling.

The pier met his back and he let out a heavy painful breath.

How the hell had he gotten himself in this situation?

It had been so simple before - easy, just smiles, flirtation, and a first kiss. A onetime deal that had turned into two, then into any chance they had. When had it gotten so serious for him?

Probably when he had found out she was choosing a Genii as he husband.

Genii!

Why did it have to be a Genii?

The bitter anger rose up again – raging against her and against Kolya, who had almost stolen John's city from him and then tried to take his life. Why did she have to choose a Genii?

Because it was the political thing to do apparently.

Because that was all that was important to her.

Not him, not what they had shared.

Who was he kidding? It wasn't as if there could have been any kind of future in it. It had been an affair, and it wasn't her fault that he'd gotten in over his head. Fallen for her, felt more than he should have.

He was such an idiot.

And now he had to go walk back into Tjaru, all fake smiles and empty promises of political crap.

Maybe he could be sick tomorrow, because the way his stomach was feeling at just the idea of having to be there when she married her Genii, he wasn't sure he could make it.

Except he'd faced hardship before, had a marriage collapse around him, had his whole working life split apart and tear him wide open, so really he should recognise this depressing place. It was just he had started to think that he had found the right place to be, a life that felt right, his place in the universe, but now it was splitting apart again and spitting him out.

The beer burned up his gullet while he lay on his back, the fuzzy edges around his mind and senses increasing. It was a numbness that he craved, wanted to swim into and drown in. It wasn't enough, but he let the swirling sensation just drag him where it wanted. The sky above with its alien clouds looked ominous and dark above him, moon and starlight breaking through in tiny slithers.

He'd been so stupid, and now he was going to have to face the consequences. Face the sight of her stood in front of everyone, smiling and so sure of her perfectly calm Elite side. A warrior selling herself off to the Alliance for trade, to glue the pieces of the Alliance jigsaw together. Well, he didn't care if the thing just fell apart, let the Alliance dissolve...swirling away...

The warm night closed in on him, the breeze pushing away the pieces of pain and bitterness as the buzz engulfed him, pulling him down into the dark welcome pull of sleep.

000000  
TBC


	15. The Elite Bride

**Note:** Well, you've all waited patiently for the wedding...well, here it is. Three new chapters for this evening. I hope you enjoy them...

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**Chapter 15 – The Elite Bride  
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The day was upon her, the moment almost at hand.

She had not slept well, the hours having been spent either tossing and turning under her blankets or lost in short terrifying nightmares. It appeared that her subconscious had dragged up all its wealth of horrifying nightmares for her last night. As an Elite she had a vast array of material for it to draw from.

She had woken this morning in her empty and silent bed, feeling that perhaps this would forever be the trend of her life. She had thrown away a love that, though foolish and distracting, had at least satisfied a part of her that currently felt as if it would never be whole again.

There was also the far newer knowledge that Maloo would be unlikely to provide a satisfactory friendship with which to share the burden of this marriage. Fortunately, there was no requirement of love or sex in a Political Marriage, and she was desperately grateful of the fact. She suspected that only a polite working relationship would be all that would be possible with Maloo, their military careers the only common ground that they would share.

It was too late now to alter anything, and besides, this marriage was not about her needs. This was for her people. The Alliance _needed _this contract and she could provide it. It was a sacrifice that she would still proceed with, for it was for the greater good of the Alliance. That was her job after all – to protect and fight for the Alliance. And it had to be saved. It was vital that it was.

She just had not realised how difficult it would turn out to be for her on a personal level. How much it had eaten away at her last night as she had dealt with the realisation that she did not like Maloo.

It was just a contract. It was for the Alliance. Not for her.

She had repeated those facts to quietly herself all morning, through first meal with her family, all of whom had made absolutely no mention of John or even Maloo. Teyla had understood why and, though slightly embarrassed at the fact that they knew how much a weakness John presented for her, she had never felt more loved by them.

If her marriage and her work were for the Alliance, her family were still hers forever. Unlike most Elite, she remained close with them, loved by them, and she loved them in return.

At least she had them. In that way at least, she could break a little of her Elite training and allow in some sentimentality to continue.

Yet, Maloo was going to invade even that to a small degree, having to be present with her for fifty days of every year. She decided that she would ensure that most of that shared time would be spent away from Tjaru, and that she would keep her family time jealously guarded.

The Alliance could have her career, her heart, and her life, but it would never take the love for her family from her. Iketani had tried, but failed. If it had not been for John's presence that day...

John...

She closed her eyes from her hour long vigil out of her bedroom window. One window was slightly ajar and through it she could hear the mass of sound throughout the Governing Complex stretched out below. All the guests were here and were currently moving through the corridors to the Ceremonial Room, ready for the ceremonies to begin.

The time was almost upon her.

She prayed silently, ashamedly, to the Ancestors that John was not among them. She did not think she could take that.

No, she was an Elite. She would face this as the battle it was.

Just another battle. Just another event that she was putting herself into out of choice, out of necessity for others.

She opened her eyes to the clouds over Tjaru. A light rain had started to patter against the glass.

There was nothing to be afraid of here. No monster to battle, no blood to be spilt. The fear was only in her mind and she would conquer it. Every warrior knew that the mind was the greatest of weapons, but that it could also be one's greatest weakness as well. Confidence and belief in oneself was the cornerstone to any warrior's mentality. If one believed that they were weak, then they would be. No Seeker could invade a Wraith's mind with weakness or they would be overwhelmed by the predatory Wraith's consciousness.

Therefore, with experience forged in deathly battle rather than polite calm political meetings, she drew her wayward thoughts and feelings under control. She focused intently on her breath, focusing, calming her mind. She closed her eyes again and felt her Elite mantle returning, enclosing and protecting her, making her stronger from within.

This was just like any other day. It was just a contract.

She was an Elite and could face anything. How was standing before the Alliance's representatives anything compared to fighting for her life and those around her in the midst of a fiery hell with innocents being culled around her?

She turned from the window and away from the noises of politicians, no doubt with ruus wine in their hands and political intrigue on their minds. Moving across to her coat, she pulled its long warmth around her, settling it properly over the harness for her swords. With the calm of her warrior self, she buttoned the brown coat and reached for her swords. She slid them home into their scabbards against her back and secured her a stunner into place at her hip. Brushing down the length of the coat's sleeves, she turned to face herself in her mirror.

She was covered from her collarbones to her wrists, with only her face, throat, showing the start of her tattoos, and her hands bare. She had decided early on in the planning for this wedding that she would not wear any long delicate dress. No, she would dress as the Elite warrior she was while she set this contract. The message would be clear.

Pushing the loose ends of her hair back over her shoulders while checking the tightness of her braids across her head, she was finally satisfied that she looked presentable. That she looked like the warrior she was.

In that respect pleased, she turned and moved out of her bedroom swiftly, through her small hallway and into the living space. Ketra lifted her head from her snooze on the largest rug. Ketra had been restless all night, having paced around Teyla's bedroom while Teyla herself had tried to get to sleep. Ketra had finally settled down alongside the bed, right up by Teyla and Teyla had stroked over her pet's back to try to soothe her. It had not helped all that much, but this morning Ketra appeared able to sleep. Teyla moved across to her now and crouched down by Ketra's side, stroking over her warm silver skin.

"You will have to remain up here during the ceremonies," Teyla told her softly. She wondered what Ketra would think of Maloo. "I shall return soon enough and then we will return to the Sythus."

Ketra tilted her head to one side as if with a question and then laid her chin back down on the rug, but her orange eyes remained worriedly on Teyla.

"I shall not be long," Teyla promised as she rose and moved the short distance to just ensure that no important new messages had arrived. Regretfully there were none to provide a useful distraction and delay.

She had received confirmation from Halling early this morning that the Sythus' scans and patrols of the Athosian system had all been clear. The Sythus would remain in orbit throughout the day while Halling and Si would be among the guests below. Or at least she hoped they were down there. Surely if something had happened up on the ship she would have been informed. So, surely they would be among the guests.

She wondered if they had spoken with Maloo. Halling had worked with Maloo before, but Si had never met him. She suspected that Si would not entirely approve of the straight-backed intensely Genii General. He would not say as much to her though, for Si was always supportive. Honest though, so perhaps he would speak his mind.

She was distracting herself and losing some focus again. She breathed carefully, purposefully, and drew her mind back on point.

Unfortunately, her eyes had traitorously turned to the blossom plant. Yesterday evening, while she had spent her long lonely hours out in the Family Courtyard and then the latter part with Charin, someone had cleaned up the thrown plant. It had been re-potted with fresh soil in a new pot and the few damaged twigs and blossoms had been trimmed away. There was not a grain of soil or blossom petal to be seen across the rug.

Teyla had no idea who had done it. If it had been one of the cleaners and whether perhaps one of the gardeners had taken care of the plant. Yet, Teyla also suspected that perhaps it might have been one of her family who had found the mess she had created and had seen to its repair. No one had mentioned it to her though. Her rug had simply been cleaned, the plant repaired and set back in its place.

Had whoever it had been understood the significance of the Earth plant for her?

She wondered if it had been Zabetha, but her sister had said nothing. Teyla had found herself looking at her Zabetha's nails this morning in case there might be a telltale speck of soil under one of them. Which was foolish, because even if it had been Zabetha, she was always clean and well presented.

Teyla forcefully pulled her attention away from the plant and moved to the exit, which would take her down to the family area. Unusually, Ketra did not follow her to the door, usually always eager to accompany Teyla when she could. Teyla frowned back down to Ketra on the rug, who was watching her with sad looking eyes. Perhaps Ketra was unwell, which might be the reason for her restless night. The thought worried Teyla instantly. She would make sure to have Ketra scanned by a healer once they were back up on the Sythus. Perhaps she would have someone look in on Ketra too during the ceremonies, to check she was well. Ketra had rarely ever been ill, and the occasions when she had been ill had usually been as a direct result of something she had eaten that she shouldn't. She hadn't eaten anything unusual last night.

"I shall return soon," she promised Ketra as she moved out of the door, frowning back in at Ketra as the door slid shut.

Worrying still about Ketra, she headed down the corridor, which brought back only more distressing memories. She forced away her last memory of John as he had stormed away down this corridor and then down the stairs she was now descending.

She had the distance she needed from him now. It was over. His anger would pass with time and he would move on, find a good Earth woman...

She pushed that thought away angrily as she stared down the last small flight of stairs. She could hear Zabetha's voice from the dining area, then Elkaska's in response, but the voices stopped abruptly.

"Teyla, is that you?" Zabetha called as Teyla reached the bottom of the stairs and moved across the incense rich lobby.

"Yes," she called back as she crossed the luxurious carpet.

"Good, I was just about to come up and pull you down here," Zabetha muttered as she stepped into view just inside the dining area. She was dressed in a lovely long blue dress with gold detailing, and was currently pulling a small coat around her shoulders. "A light rain started a short while ago, but it will be fine, everyone is inside. They are almost all through to the Ceremonial Room." Zabetha had essentially been the overseer of the wedding festivities, and though intense about the details in a professional caring manner before, this morning Zabetha appeared somewhat anxious.

Teyla looked to Elkaska as she entered the dining area. He was frowning faintly at Zabetha.

"Is something wrong?" Teyla asked as Zabetha overly fussed with her shoes.

"No, no," Zabetha replied quickly, which told Teyla just the opposite. "We had a small disagreement between the Atures and the Vancet Ambassadors, but it has all calmed. There is an ongoing land disagreement between them, nothing to worry about."

Teyla nodded, knowing such political bickering occasionally occurred between guests at such events, but she had to wonder if that was truly the subject which was bothering Zabetha. Teyla looked to Elkaska again. He was strangely quiet. The two of them had definitely been speaking about something that had distressed them, and they had fallen silent when they had heard her approaching down the stairs. Clearly they did not wish to tell her though. She suspected the subject might very well have been Maloo. Charin had told her yesterday evening that Elkaska did not like the Genii, but Uncle had been surprisingly quiet on the subject over first meal this morning. He was usually more forthcoming with his opinions. He had continued to express his dissatisfaction with her plan to marry all these past days, even while he had actually been assisting in the preparations. This morning, however, he seemed contained and uncomfortable.

Teyla wondered if Father had said something to him, or had it been Elkaska who had found the broken spilt pot? No, she was almost certain if it had been him that he would have used the event to try yet again to convince her to change her mind about the wedding.

"It is not important, just the usual political tensions," Zabetha added, most definitely anxious though she was trying to conceal it. "I have had to re-adjust the seating arrangements in the Ceremonial Room three times already since the guests started arriving. One would think people would behave more professionally at the wedding of an Elite."

Teyla nodded, but was even more convinced that it was not the tiny details that were bothering Zabetha. She probably didn't like Maloo either.

"If you are concerned," Teyla offered, feeling that she was currently the one most in control of her feelings in the room, "we could ask Halling and Si to watch over those you are worried about."

Zabetha smiled at that as she brushed nonexistent dust or dirt from her dress. "I believe they are already watching over a few of them."

Teyla felt something deep ease inside. Halling and Si were here, among the guests. She felt instantly better somehow.

"Sitayi is here," Zabetha added with an exaggerated new smile. They were putting on a good show for her.

"She looks well?" Teyla checked, grateful that Sitayi was well enough to attend, but the fact that the Pelydrian Seer was here made what was about to happen seem even more inevitable. Which was the point, she was just being foolish.

"Truthfully she does look pale," Zabetha reported, "but she appears to have taken to Mr Woolsey today...," she faded off as if suddenly regretting that she was talking about the Earth delegation. Teyla had known Father was going to invite some from Atlantis. It would be important for them to be seen here.

Teyla simply nodded quickly to Zabetha. "Good," she stated. Was John here? She wanted to ask, needed to know, but was frightened to find out the answer. "I am sure that Halling and Si can see her swiftly from the room if she feels unwell at all."

Teyla was almost tempted to ask for her fellow warriors to come and join her now so that she might walk into the Ceremonial Room with them at her side.

"And Maloo?" She asked instead.

"He is here, front and centre of attention," Zabetha replied, her tone distracted, but Teyla heard enough in it to suggest that her sister was not overly impressed by her future brother by marriage.

"Still negotiating?" Teyla asked.

"It seems so," Zabetha smiled tightly. "You never know, you may have some traders putting forward an offering in the ceremony to counter Maloo."

Teyla smiled at her joke, knowing it would not happen. There would be no other offers. The Genii were a thorough people.

Except if they were trying to harm John or those in Atlantis.

The thought darkened her mood and some nervous questions arose again. No, Kolya had been responsible for those events. She would not judge an entire people by such lone actions.

Zabetha checked the time displayed on the wall. "It is time we made a move to the Ceremonial Room. Are you ready, Sister?"

Teyla nodded.

"I shall make sure all is in order," Zabetha fussed and turned away, leading the way out.

But, Teyla held back, turning to Elkaska.

Her uncle looked at her with a soft smile, his mouth closed.

"You have been very quiet, Uncle," she quizzed him gently.

"It is your day, Mistress," he replied formally.

"It is a day for Athos," she corrected him gently.

"It is a day that I wish your mother were here with us," he countered.

Emotion welled up in Teyla's throat, a disastrous companion to the nervous sadness already in her breast. She nodded, understanding his quiet mood now.

"I wish she was here as well," Teyla managed to say without her throat closing up around the old grief.

"I am sure she would have the perfect words to say to you," Elkaska said. "I never had her way with words."

"You certainly share plenty of words," Teyla teased.

He smiled tightly. "I have wondered if there was something that I should have expressed more effectively to stop you going through with this ceremony, but I understand that it is important for you."

"It is," she confirmed. "I have to do something for our people, in the time that I am here."

He nodded, his eyes growing wet. "I simply wish that we lived in a galaxy in which you could choose from your heart, not your head."

"If all politics were run from our hearts, where would we be?" She asked. "Emotions lead to bad decisions."

"And so does logic," he countered, but with a smile. "The Genii themselves are evidence enough of that."

She frowned at the comment. Clearly Charin's opinion that Elkaska did not approve of Maloo was true enough.

"The decision I make has to be based on what will be best for Athos, for the Alliance, and for the Elite as well," she reminded him, and herself.

He nodded. "Maybe that is what needs to change," he considered. "What we think is best for us all."

She frowned at that cryptic logic. "Keeping the Alliance together is what _is_ important, keeping us strong, united."

"Yet what we have already is what is breaking. Maybe what we need is something new to come in and help us evolve."

She could see through his meaning – he felt her affair with John was more beneficial than her marrying a Genii.

"I am trying to bring in something new with this marriage," she explained to him, stepping closer. "An Elite to marry is unusual enough, but in a Political Marriage...it is unheard of, and will draw attention to what is happening."

Elkaska nodded slightly, his wet eyes soft on her. "I just hope they appreciate what you are doing, blessed daughter of my sister."

Teyla smiled up at him, her eyes swimming in moisture of their own now, though she blinked it away. "I am only getting married, Uncle," she smiled as she reached out and laid her hand on his arm. "Tomorrow will be just as it was today, nothing major will change in our lives."

He smiled again. "Yet perhaps it should."

"Too much change or not enough, make up your mind, Trader," she teased him.

"Are you sure you do not want to put all this political and warrior life aside to become a trader?" He joked, but only slightly. "We could leave now, trade across the stars, perhaps visit Earth."

She laughed up at him and he smiled. "If you are good, perhaps we can arrange you a trip to Earth."

"That would be good," he replied and with that the heavy weight of their exchange had passed. He had said what he felt he needed to and she had heard him.

"You must make sure," she told him as she slipped her hand around his arm as they walked towards the exit from the family area, "that you arrange all the trades you wish. Never before will you have such opportunities as today."

"True enough," he replied. "The party celebrations after the wedding will be very enjoyable for me."

"Just make sure that Charin does not drink too much ruus wine, you know how she was after Zabetha's wedding."

"She was fine, simply too talkative of old stories."

"Stories about me and Zabetha up to no good in our youth," Teyla reminded him.

Elkaska chuckled. "I am sure Honoured Elite Halling and Si will be there to help distract her."

"Yes, that is the problem as well for you know she likes to flirt with Si are a few extra glasses of ruus wine."

Elkaska laughed loudly as they exited out into the public corridors. The mass of distant voices was still obvious within the complex. People were still making their way to the Ceremonial Room. Teyla suspected that Zabetha would be trying to hurriedly herd them all up, whilst still maintaining her elegant poise. Meantime, Teyla and Elkaska took a different route, making their way around behind the route the guests were taking.

"Ha," Elkaska laughed at Teyla's side. "I have never seen an Elite male, and certainly none so large, strong and silent, look so uncomfortable in my life."

Teyla smiled, but the humour was dying away inside, the moment of her marriage was almost upon her. And as time clicked away until that moment, the nervous questions of before were only gathering momentum. Being with her family, even so briefly, had lessened her Elite control and the nervous doubt was returning.

As they reached a crossroads of corridors, she slipped her hand free of Elkaska's arm, brushing her hair from her shoulders as an excuse, but in truth she was gathering her control back into place.

She was an Elite.

This was simply another mission. For the Alliance. For the Elite. For the future.

As she moved across the width of a main hallway towards the other corridor ahead she and Elkaska would take, she looked down the length of the hallway to see the last of the guests were moving into the Ceremonial Room at the far end. Though there were still many crowded in the tight space, and amongst them, the centre of attention indeed, was Maloo.

He was smiling, the most she had seen any Genii smile before, as he exchanged a ritual clasp of forearms with someone. Then another man stepped towards Maloo, a Belkan Teyla believed, and touched his hand to his own chest in respectful greeting to the Genii General. Maloo returned the greeting immediately.

Teyla paused in her steps to watch the display in the distance. No one had noticed her watching, too interested in greeting Maloo to notice. She also suspected that none would expect to see her so far from the Ceremonial Room.

She watched Maloo nodding to others, and then accepting several small pouches from a Pravian ambassador. The pouches would contain currency and likely a precious jewel, as were typical gifts from a Pravian to one getting married.

The trading, negotiating, and interactions were occurring as Teyla had known they would. Peoples from across the Alliance working with each other, forming more ties. Yet, as she watched Maloo accept another pouch from another ambassador, she noted that the pouches were disappearing into Maloo's pockets, and at his side one of his personal guards was tapping details into an electronic pad. It was normal to keep a record of gifts, for clearly Maloo was receiving quite a few.

In fact, as she watched, it seemed to her that the guests around him appeared extremely eager to approach Maloo, eager to hand across small items and more pouches. They were almost grovelling to speak with him.

She frowned at the display.

Maloo was inclining his head and smiling politely as someone passed him another pouch. The pouch again went into his pocket.

Elkaska, who had not noticed she had stopped until now, returned to her side and lightly touched her arm. It was his silent reminder that they should continue onwards on their own route. She nodded faintly in Elkaska's direction, but she kept her eyes on Maloo and his desperate admirers.

This was what she had wanted. This was what a Political Marriage was for...the same powerful people making the same kind of trades in order for the betterment of their own worlds. Where would the contents of those pouches go? Would they find their way to the Genii people, to help their infrastructure and defences? She suspected that they would not. They would most likely sit in Maloo's home, while others were shared with Cowen. Some of the jewels would be sold for currency, again half likely going to Cowen, if not more.

Where had the jewels come from? From worlds outside the Alliance that were still savaged by the Wraith? Dug up by hands desperate for coin and food?

Was this underhanded, behind the official scenes, manner the way that the Alliance was to be held together? And if so, how was her marriage going to improve it in any real way?

She had wanted to increase trade, and clearly it was already occurring, but was it the right kind of trade? Were the right people, the masses of everyday Alliance citizens, going to benefit from this contract, or would it only be those in the highest of positions? Were only certain businesses benefit; those with already with power and connections?

Would such trade improve things in the Alliance, or simply just improve certain careers and certain pockets?

"Teyla?" Elkaska asked worriedly at her side.

She looked around at his quiet question. He seemed concerned as he looked at her.

Aware that a new strange determination was settling over her, she marched forward, across the rest of the width of the corridor and onwards along her and Elkaska's route to the wedding. The discussing hum of the politicians reduced behind her fast steps.

She had hoped that with this contract she could set forth a chain of events that would improve matters within the Alliance. However, now she realised that had been ignorant of her. She was going to have to be much further involved.

She would ensure that this sacrifice she was making would benefit the right people. The Alliance had been borne for mutual survival against the Wraith and the combined strength to force the monsters back.

Teyla would ensure that mandate would continue in the name of her marriage.

She would have to see to it personally.

Elkaska hurried up to her side, having been left behind by her swift steps. "Are you alright?" He asked her, still clearly worried. She wondered if she looked as cross and determined as she felt inside. She mused that her family had probably rarely seen her in this mode.

"I am fine," she replied as she led the way around the next corner. "It is just that something occurred to me, that is all."

Which was that she used to hate the concept of Political Marriages, and she had just remembered why.

Well, her marriage would mean something, it would make a difference. She would see to it that it did.

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TBC


	16. A Concerned Guest

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**Chapter 16 – A Concerned Guest**

All was going well on Athos so far. The Sythus had arrived well in time to complete two sweeps of the solar system and several detailed scans of Athos itself. Everything had been negative – there was nothing out of place.

Everything running to plan, Si had departed early to Athos to visit with his ladies before the ceremonies. Halling had followed later, coming down on a transport craft with two security personnel, who would remain on the vessel to maintain scans of Tjaru and be available for any emergency need. Walking the short distance to the Gateway to the central city of his home planet, Halling had been somewhat shocked to find Si already there waiting for him. Apparently Teyla's marriage was significant enough for even Si to reduce the time spent with his ladies.

The rain had held off as he and Si had walked up through Tjaru. Tisirus had met them at the entrance to the Governing Complex, full of reports confirming that all was well inside the complex and throughout the city. Guests had already started to arrive as Halling and Si had walked around the Governing Complex, taking their own scans of the buildings and the perimeter. Nothing had been out of place.

Now back inside the complex, the numbers of guests had noticeably increased. Halling glanced at the time to see that it would not be too long now until the Offering Ceremony would begin.

"We should get into the Ceremonial Room," Halling noted to Si from where they stood in the middle of the Gathering Courtyard, a nice open space around them, despite the growing numbers of guests filling the yard.

Si looked at him with a questioning look.

"It is a good room to hold the ceremonies," Halling reminded him. "Only two points of entry – front and back. A long narrow room, we will have a good view of everyone inside.

Si nodded with vague agreement. He had not looked overly pleased to be here. His dark eyes were sweeping the guests around them with more suspicion than normal.

Halling glanced up at the sky above them. The rains of late summer had already started apparently, but though the clouds above were white, they were quite full and heavy to Halling's eyes. There the feel of growing humidity in the air that was so very reminiscent of his early memories of living on Athos.

As they had yesterday, thoughts of his youthful days in the Athosian camp, of Routh with him, returned. He drew in a deep lungful of Athosian air. Despite the massive number of worlds that he had visited now, there was a discernible enjoyable scent to the air on his home world. It was probably purely psychological on his part, but he drew it in now with deep satisfaction.

The satisfaction drifted away though as a gap appeared in the crowds before him revealing General Maloo heading towards him and Si.

"Maloo," Halling warned Si with a faint indication with his chin towards the swiftly approaching stiffly uniformed Genii and his two guards.

"Honoured Elite," Maloo greeted them as he stopped a respectful distance from them and bowed deeply. It was a very overt sign of respect from a Genii. It was also clearly a display intended for the audience around them as much as it was for him and Si.

Si had taken his time turning round to face the Genii, and now settled his immovable large shoulders squarely as he and Halling both vaguely inclined their heads in return.

"Honoured Elite Halling," Maloo addressed Halling directly. "It is good to meet you again."

Halling nodded in reply. He had worked with Maloo twice now, though only once while working on the same ship together. Maloo had been efficient and his reputation had preceded him.

Si had not met him before now.

Halling watched Maloo turn his gaze to Si. "Honoured Elite Si."

Si responded with a protracted blink, but it was probably indecipherable to anyone who didn't know him. Halling almost smiled as he watched Maloo control a faint frown at the lack of response.

"I am grateful for your presence this day," Maloo stated.

Halling knew it was a standard turn of phrase to guests, but this was hardly Maloo's home to be thanking them for being here. Though Halling realised, in less than a standard hour, it would be partly Maloo's home.

Halling wished it were otherwise. This man was not deserving enough for Teyla.

The silent pause in conversation began to extend, and Halling's Athosian training kicked in. "We are glad to see the Genii present for this ceremony," he stated into the prolonging silence.

"We would not miss such an honoured event," Maloo replied quickly. "However, I shall not hold your presence up." His eyes were shifting past Si. He was uncomfortable, or perhaps more interested in attending to other guests who would be more likely to ingratiate themselves to him.

"I am sure we will speak again later," Halling replied, his Athosian sense of politeness still holding strong despite all the years since he had lived here.

Maloo bowed again, this time with a faint smile. "Thank you, Honoured Elite."

He bowed again to Si and moved away, his guards both nodding as well.

Halling and Si turned and watched the three Genii disappear into the crowds, causing other curious eyes to turn away quickly.

"What do you think of him?" Halling asked Si quietly.

"Genii," Si summarised bluntly.

Halling frowned over at him. "You have been spending too much time with Oneakka lately."

Si lifted a more animated eyebrow at him and there was a small smile this time. "Let's get inside."

Halling nodded and moved with Si through the crowd. People parted for them immediately, people nodding respectfully as they passed. Halling returned a few nods with familiar faces, which included Vako. Halling had truly enjoyed the final round of the Athosian Bantos Championships in which Vako had emerged victorious. He had not had a chance to speak with the fighter since, but he would make time later.

He and Si moved into the complex again and swiftly through the busy corridors. Many of the guests were now moving towards the Ceremonial Room. The time had almost arrived. Halling realised that he and Si had not checked the Ceremonial Room themselves. He quickened his steps slightly, and he and Si arrived in the target room quickly enough.

There were at least several hundred chairs set down the length of the room, divided into two columns, and all facing the closest end of the room to Halling's left. Halling noticed that the chairs had names displayed upon them in delicate silver writing, and that guests were moving calmly around to find their assigned seats. This would be part of Zabetha's vital seating arrangements that Teyla had mentioned several times. Halling pulled out his scanning pad as Si did the same.

"I'll take the far end," Si intoned as he moved away, his bandolier of weapons bouncing against his broad thick chest as he moved away down the central aisle of delicate white chairs. Halling turned away to the left of the main entrance. The closest end of the room was raised up higher than the rest of the room – the stage on which the event would play out. The green covered marriage altar stood in the centre of the space. Halling stepped up onto the stage and began a thorough scan of the space, including its two large but tasteful flower displays. Two Athosian guards nodded to him from where they stood on either side of the single door off the stage. Through the closed door, Teyla and her family would be gathering. Halling considered going inside to offer support, but the time was almost upon them already.

By the time he had completed a scan of the stage and the front half of the long room, the room had almost entirely filled up. He and Si met halfway down the room in the central aisle, momentarily holding up guests trying to use the aisle.

"Nothing," Si reported and Halling nodded the same.

"I'll take this side," Halling indicated the wall to the right and Si nodded. Si moved away, scattering a few guests from their chairs to give him a way past their knees.

Si was definitely not in the best of moods. Halling had not been the one to tell Si of Saoka's possible involvement in the military hardware again, but clearly someone else had. Halling suspected it had been Seifer, or hopefully Nalla. No, Nalla had left last night to join Jobrill at another emergency meeting of the Military Council.

Toshka had been very publically arrested last night and Halling suspected the event was a popular subject for discussion among the guests around him. It occurred to him that some of these politically powerful individuals might even be involved. He looked around him with renewed interest, wishing he had taken the time to look into Toshka's database a little further now the Sythus had its own copy. The only problem was that the copy was kept in one lab and not yet accessible through the ship's computer. Apparently the technicians might have a way to change that, following a conversation with Malaca from his current stay with Enforcement.

At the right hand wall of the room, Halling took up a place halfway down the length of the room and swung his eyes over the crowd. Technically he and Si were here as guests themselves, but neither of them were going to sit down and do nothing. They had both agreed that they would be on guard and alert throughout the event.

This would be too prime an opportunity for some individuals to make a statement attack.

That was not even including the Genii Kolya who had attempted to assassinate Sheppard at the peace treaty talks last week.

Atlantis.

Halling looked down to the back end of the room. His subconscious had noticed the Atlantis uniform somewhere. He found two of the uniforms among the guests down at the far end of the seats, but his attention was drawn to the woman beside them.

Sitayi was here after all.

She was looking at him, and instantly he could see that she was not herself. She looked away from him quickly to one of the Atlantis uniforms. Halling checked around the room briefly, and then over to Si, who stood with his back to the other wall across from Halling. Halling noticed that Si had gotten a drink. The glass was clasped in one his large dark hands, but he didn't appear to be taking any interest it in. Halling indicated that he was going to move down the end of the room briefly. Si nodded back.

Pushing away from the wall, Halling made his way swiftly down the side aisle to the far end of the room. He was surprised that Sitayi was sat so far away from the stage. She was entitled to a place of importance near the front.

A Litan couple moved aside for him and his view of Sitayi was re-established.

She did indeed look pale.

He wondered if her place at this end of the room was so that she could slip out the back entrance if she felt unwell. Such an exit would not draw any attention during the ceremony.

He studied her profile worriedly as he approached her.

She was sat beside an empty chair, behind which stood a woman in an Atlantis uniform. Halling had not seen this woman before, but her strongly held shoulders and her smile down to Sitayi allayed his concerns. There had been another Atlantis individual in the crowd though. Halling glanced around the moving guests and spotted Lieutenant Ford speaking with Vako only a metre or so away.

It was good that Atlantis was represented here today, but again he was a little surprised that they were sat so far back. Perhaps they had been a late addition to Zabetha's seating plan.

He reached Sitayi' side and she looked around and up to him.

"Ambassador," Halling greeted her.

"Honoured Elite," Sitayi replied, but her violet eyes did not meet his directly.

That was not like her.

"May I present Lieutenant Cadman of Atlantis," Sitayi swiftly introduced the new woman.

"Honoured Elite," the one known as Cadman said politely and bowed her head.

Halling assessed her further now. She had the confidence of a warrior.

"Lieutenant," Halling greeted her back using her Earth rank. He lowered his attention back to Sitayi. "Are you well, Ambassador?"

"I have recovered, yes, thank you," Sitayi replied, but her eyes were focused away from him, looking across the guests.

Something was worrying her.

Anything that worried a seer worried Halling.

"If there is anything that you need," Halling offered.

"Thank you, Honoured Elite, I am fine," Sitayi said, looking up at him this time. "A woman of my years takes a while to recover from prolonged illness."

Her complexion was paler than normal, but it was the clear emotional discomfort that concerned him more.

He had never seen Sitayi behave in such a way before. Normally she was the one to drill her probing gaze into you, making you feel nervously uncomfortable at times in her presence.

His suspicion about her wishing to be near an exit might indeed be correct if she clearly still felt unwell.

It was best that she be comfortable at the back here then, yet he had to be sure that her discomfort was not borne of something she had seen about to occur in this crowded room.

"If there is anything that concerns you, feel free to mention it to me," he told her gently.

Her eyes abruptly met his directly and he felt strangely drawn into their violet depths. There was something disconcerting in them, something that...

"If anything does, I shall let you know, Honoured Elite," she smiled weakly as she looked away again.

He frowned at her, feeling uncomfortable himself now. She was looking down the far side of the room intently. Halling found himself turning to look at what had drawn her attention.

One man instantly drew Halling's focus and it was a shock to see him. Sheppard was here!

The man was stood halfway down the far wall, stood beside Si. He was not dressed in the standard Atlantis uniform with which Halling was now familiar. This new outfit was more presentable, with small bands of colour displayed across one side of his chest. Sheppard was holding a glass of drink in his hand, and despite the smarter appearance of his uniform, the Earthman's hair was more dishevelled than normal, and his expression was sour.

From this angle Halling could see that Sheppard was talking with Si, or rather he was talking _at _Si. Si' eyes were moving over the growing number of filled chairs, not appearing to be responding to Sheppard.

Did Teyla know Sheppard was here?

Halling wondered if she should be told?

Except it would not change anything. The fact that Sheppard was here meant that he knew what this ceremony entailed, and his clear glum expression told Halling that the man was not pleased to be present. However, Sheppard was the Atlantis Ambassador to Athos, so it was expected for him to be here.

It wouldn't be of concern. Halling could not imagine Sheppard doing anything destructive.

"Here you go, Ambassador," a voice to Halling's right made him look round. Mr Woolsey of Atlantis was handing over a glass of kita juice to Sitayi. About to settle down into the empty seat beside Sitayi, Mr Woolsey finally noticed Halling's presence and immediately stood upright again. "Honoured Elite Halling, it is a pleasure to meet you again."

"And you, Mr Woolsey," Halling replied to the bespectacled man. "Atlantis fairs well?"

"It does, thank you. I assume all is well with your people, the Elite. Though presumably always at war," the man verbally stumbled.

"Yes, thank you," Halling rescued him quickly. "I have to move on, but it is good to see you present today."

"Thank you, Honoured Elite," Mr Woolsey replied as he dipped his head.

Halling exchanged another nod with the female Atlantis guard behind Woolsey's chair and then smiled down at Sitayi again.

"Ambassador," he said gently to her. "I am available if you need anything."

She nodded up at him. "I am grateful, Honoured Elite."

Unsatisfied with the strange interaction with her, Halling still moved away, working his way back down the room, around the filling chairs to resume his former position. Bodyguards to various guests were also lined along the walls, but all kept a respectful distance from him and Si across the room. Well, apart from Sheppard, who Halling noted was still stood at Si' side, glass held tightly in his right hand. Halling wondered if Sheppard realised he was inadvertently mirroring Si' body language.

Halling settled into his former position, halfway down the right hand wall of the room. Most of the chairs were filled now, people fussing over their jackets, dresses, and in some cases hats. The noise of so many combined voices in one room was quite loud.

A strange sensation drew Halling's attention round swiftly to find that Sitayi was looking at him again down the length of the room.

Had she read something?

She looked away swiftly.

He frowned at the behaviour, watching her as she started talking with Mr Woolsey again. The guard Cadman behind Woolsey looked relaxed enough, though in obvious security mode. Nothing appeared to be alarming them at the far end of the room.

He looked away to Si across the width of the room.

Sheppard was still clutching the prop that was his drink and talking at Si. Si met Halling's gaze and nodded confirmation that nothing was concerning him. Which was interesting considering he had a clearly brooding Sheppard at his side.

Halling felt rather sorry for the Earthman, and switched his gaze to the man, waiting for him to notice.

With a warrior's instinct, Sheppard looked across the room a moment later and Halling nodded to him. Sheppard managed a smile that was mostly believable as he nodded back.

Increased commotion at the main entrance to the left caught Halling's attention though. Maloo had arrived and was making his way to his seat – in the front row of the room.

Elkaska had also appeared, along with Zabetha, both talking with an Athosian ambassador near the front seats.

It was almost time for the Offering Ceremony to begin. So far everything was going well.

Except Halling found himself looking back round, down the long length of the room towards Sitayi' far seat.

Only to find that her eyes were on him already.

They were wide and direct, seeming wild with worry. It called forth an instant sense of panic in Halling, but Sitayi blinked and looked away quickly.

Something cold shifted inside Halling, but light delicate chimes rang out from the front of the room, calling everyone to silence. The mass of voices instantly dropped away and all eyes moved to the stage. Halling kept his eyes on Sitayi though, but she smiled to Mr Woolsey and directed her attention off towards the stage.

Yet, her worried violet stare replayed in his mind's eye.

The chimes rang again and Torren's voice rose up in greeting.

Halling turned to watch, but his gaze briefly paused on Sheppard.

The man had his back against the wall beside Si still, his drink held tightly and his head lowered as if he were closely inspecting his boots.

Halling wondered if he would remain that way throughout the ceremonies.

000000  
TBC


	17. The Offering Ceremony

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**Chapter 17 – The Offering Ceremony  
**

He had felt numb since he had gotten up this morning, his head still fuzzy from his beer indulgence and half the night spent asleep out on the pier.

Falling into old skills from his training and years of rallying at random hours, he had still gotten up on time, made his bed, dressed in his Blues, made sure he was presentable, and had reported for duty.

In fact the fuzzy head and numb feeling inside had helped him through the simple tasks without thinking too much about where he was soon headed. Inside something all too familiar had shut down, sealing away the feelings and the pain, leaving him at least able to function. It wasn't the best functioning granted, but he was dressed smartly enough, on his feet, and stood waiting for the wormhole to Athos to open up.

Ford had looked worried about him at first, and Woolsey had made some passing comment on the periphery of John's awareness, but John had simply made the excuse of not feeling all that well this morning.

It passed momentarily through his fuzzy head that maybe the excuse would be enough to have him pulled from the visit to watch Teyla getting...

He stopped himself from completing that thought. He could get through this. He just had to walk through a Gate, through a wormhole; he did it all the time. After that he just needed to walk up a hill and into a city – he could do that.

Small steps, just focus on what he was doing in the moment.

Ford and Cadman chatted together as the Gate activated and the wormhole snapped into its place across the middle of the ring. Woolsey marched forward, a wave sent up towards the Control Room, presumably to Colonel Carter. John just followed, putting one foot in front of the other.

It was crowded on the other side of the Gate, plenty of other guests have just arrived. John just fell into his training, keeping close to Woolsey, watching everything around them carefully, without thinking about anything else. He could do that, he had done it for enough years now.

Abas appeared as usual and led them away, moving along with the other guests on the trek along the road up to Tjaru. Everyone was dressed up and the rain had held off today, the ground dried from yesterday's downpour. John watched his dress shoes moving along the partially dried mud as he followed along, last in their little procession up to the city.

Cadman glanced round at him several times, looking concerned. "You sure you're okay, Major?" She asked on the third look round at him.

John glanced away from the colourful mix of different outfits among the other guests walking close by. Able to wear her usual Atlantis uniform, unlike him, Cadman looked annoyingly comfortable, whereas his collar was itching against his skin. His shiny shoes weren't as worn and soft as his usual boots, and he felt a fraction too warm in the whole get up. That awareness annoyingly brought him more aware of where he was and what he was doing, the numb distance fading a little. The sounds of the voices, passing carts, and crunching mud under boots all suddenly became obvious around him, as was the smell of the Athosian air, edged with a touch of decay that came from the wilting flowers along the side of the road.

"Just a headache," He offered to Cadman, which wasn't a total lie. Except, the pain killers he had taken just before leaving Atlantis were kicking in now and his mind was sharpening.

He tried to hold onto the fuzziness, the softening of reality around him, but annoyingly his body was pumping some adrenaline into his system to combat it all.

Because they were moving through the Tjaru Gateway, the buzz of the Ancient tech moving through his body like a promise he only had to answer. Ahead, the snaking lines of guests made the route to the Governing Buildings obvious. There was a strong smell of the baked goods being traded to the guests, and again the scent of those rotting flowers in the distance. All of it reached into his head and pulled at his awareness, making everything now seem sharp, intense, and painful.

And far too soon the entrance to the Governing Buildings was ahead, but at least there were a ton of people in front of John and the others, the human traffic jam forcing them to stop for a while. Stopping was good.

Standing in the queue, Abas starting another speech on Athosian history, John looked away from the queue. Only, the memories flowed forward into his nearly cleared head and sharpened senses.

Off to the right, he saw the space across which he and Teyla had run in pursuit of the assassin sent by Iketani to kill Teyla's family. They hadn't known at the time that another had killed Garthew of Rosenthal outside the city. They had been too intent to race after the would be killer's heels, chasing him across that patch of grass, past fallen Athosian guards, and through an iron gate set into that wall. Except the gateway wasn't there anymore, it had been filled in.

He looked away, but more memories were readily available. He remembered heading out of this entrance with Teyla for a walk around Tjaru. She had shown him some of the sights and introduced him to a few of the Athosian baked goods he had seen on the way up here.

He remembered sharing tea with her inside the complex, in different courtyards on different visits. He remembered walking the hallways with her, Ketra wandering along behind them.

The memories were warm but painful as he turned and looked back out across the city around them. He realised that he was going to miss loving this place. Even during the times he had visited when Teyla hadn't been here, he had still enjoyed visiting Tjaru. But, now it felt different, now it felt marked and bittersweet to look at the alien city with its noble, kind people.

From now on, this would be the city where Teyla stayed with her Genii husband. It was ruined for John. Everything felt tainted, making the memories he had of here feel dark and cruel, rather than exciting and warm as they had before.

A woman stood behind him in the queue, who he was now partly facing looked directly at him, drawing his attention to her. She had very wide cheekbones and a kind smile. "Are you new to Tjaru?" She asked in a heavily accented voice.

"Um, No," he replied instantly, smiling as politely as he could. "She's almost been a second home lately," he considered out loud.

The woman smiled as her eyes moved over his dress Blues. "Forgive me," she said, "I do not recognise your clothing. Where are you from?"

"Atlantis," he replied, knowing that it was the real truth. He may have been born on Earth, but Atlantis was his home now. That could change one day, but for now, it was his home. Even if Teyla was never going to visit his quarters there again.

The woman looked surprised and then dipped her head. "Greetings," she said, her voice rising a little louder, which naturally drew more people's attention as they waited patiently in the queue. "I am of Lele of the Maia second moon system."

John nodded back to her, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the attention, though now he looked around properly, he realised that he recognised a few faces. Probably a lot of the same people were invited to these big important political events. Most of them had probably been at Zabetha's wedding.

"Pleased to meet you," John replied. "I'm Major John Sheppard."

"We had heard of the treaty with your people," Lele smiled widely. "If your people are open to trade, perhaps we could speak later."

"Sure," John replied, making sure to smile back at her. Because that was why he was here – to make nice and help Atlantis.

Not to torture himself in any way as he watched Teyla get married.

"I would be interested to hear of the treaty," another man put in, one that John was almost certain he had made small talk with before...what was his name?

"That would be great," John smiled. There was some movement in the queue around him, so a little more eagerly he smiled and turned away, moving up closer to Cadman now.

The Lieutenant smiled at him, "Making friends?" She asked with a cheeky grin.

"Why we're here," John muttered.

"You seem thrilled," Cadman noted. "Good security," she noted as they moved closer to the full checks going on at the entrance to the complex. Looked like they were scanning everyone entering, and even frisking some of them.

"They stepped it up after what happened earlier in the year," John informed Cadman, finding himself glancing off towards the bricked in and plastered over gateway.

"Read about that," Cadman nodded. "Good thing you were here."

John angled his head in faint agreement. "Still didn't stop us being blamed by some in the High Council." The assassins had worn stolen Atlantis uniforms while they had killed Garthew and tried to do the same to Teyla's family.

"Not by the Elite though," Cadman replied. "Think there'll be some inside?" She sounded eager and curious.

"Probably. Just play it cool," John advised. "They like us."

"Even you?" Cadman teased her voice low as they stepped forward for their turn to be scanned by the complex's security. However, just beyond the guard in front of John, a familiar face came into view – Tisirus, Captain of Tjaru's City Guard. The man recognised John immediately and pointed at him.

"Go through," he instructed, waving John through without being scanned.

Surprised at the deferential treatment, John moved ahead, leaving Cadman and the others frowning at him.

"Thanks," John offered to Tisirus.

"Leader Torren says you are welcome as family in the complex," Tisirus replied unemotionally, his eyes returning to the queued guests and the rest of John's team who were having to be scanned. "We don't frisk the family."

"Sure, thanks," John offered again, accepting the logic if not Tisirus' mechanical explanation. The show had drawn some attention from the queued guests, and John guessed Tisirus' actions had just added some political intrigue to the whispers about Atlantis. One of them can just walk into Torren's house without a pat down – thrilling gossip.

Woolsey, Ford, and Cadman were waved through the checks as clean, since they had followed instructions and had not brought any weapons with them. John was a little surprised that Ford hadn't concealed something on him, but since nothing had been picked up he guessed Ford had followed orders. He'd probably been subjected to Woolsey's long 'play nice' lecture which John had 'enjoyed' a few times now.

Through security, they followed the instructions of the Athosian assistants at the door and the obvious flow of human traffic into the main entrance of the complex, down two long corridors and eventually out into the Gathering Courtyard. John knew this one pretty well now. It was pretty packed today though, but with the side doors open to small meeting rooms, the guests had space to move around and mingle.

Great, mingling.

He really wanted the fuzziness back.

The smell of Athosian food led them to several long tables displaying finger food and large jugs of drink. John's stomach wasn't up for any of it, but Woolsey picked up a few nibbles. John guessed the guy was getting quite versed in Athosian cuisine himself now.

Nibbles quickly consumed, Woolsey turned on the spot, scanning the crowded courtyard with the eyes of a political predator.

"This way," Woolsey uttered and moved away abruptly, and John simply followed behind him, glancing around, looking for familiar faces, anything of concern...maybe an Elite or two. Would she be out here? No, she'd probably be inside, prepping to walk down the aisle. Not that she'd be into all the pretence; After all it was _just_ political after all.

Whatever.

"This is Mr Woolsey of Earth," Abas was introducing ahead of John, "and Major John Sheppard, their Ambassador to Athos." John reached Woolsey's side and looked at the people he was being introduced to, only to find himself looking at three Genii.

His shoulders instantly tensed, his heart jumping into fight mode. The last Genii he had dealt with had been trying to kill him!

Except this was a party and they had orders to make nice with the Genii. And clearly Woolsey was taking that straight to heart because he had headed over here right away.

The three Genii nodded faintly to them and John's group all returned the exact same faint nod.

"Mr Woolsey, may I present," Abas continued as he indicated the Genii stood in the centre, "General Maloo."

Once again John's heart shuddered in his chest, this time the organ deciding to fight up into his throat as he locked his eyes on the man who was going to marry Teyla.

He didn't like him.

The Genii uniform was just as John had seen so many times before, but Maloo's had more tassels and stuff stuck on it. Prissy.

The man was about John's height, but probably because he had lifts in his overly shiny boots. His hair was greying at his temples and the cut was all military and no style. And his eyes were such a steely grey that they seemed metallic.

John wondered if he was a terminator.

Maloo returned John's direct stare with no obvious emotion, but wasn't that just typical of the Genii. And terminators.

"...plenty to offer each other," Woolsey was saying.

Maloo shifted his gaze off John to focus on Woolsey. "Such details will have to be discussed with Leader Cowen, but we can perhaps discuss some matters later if you wish."

The other two Genii, Maloo's underlings, were watching John with focused indifference.

"I hope that we can," Woolsey replied. "After all our people often run into each other beyond the border."

John was surprised at Woolsey's blatant reference, and made sure to control his expression carefully.

However, Maloo's expression shifted slightly, his attention focusing on Woolsey with more interest. "I am only aware of a couple of meetings."

"Perhaps we should compare notes," Woolsey suggested.

Maloo nodded. "A wise decision. I can then report back to Cowen of your assistance. I do know that he was most concerned about the individual among the Vancet who attempted to injury Major Sheppard." Maloo's grey eyes returned to John.

John met the gaze, looking straight into those steely unfeeling eyes.

Was he one of Kolya's men?

The thought passed a chill over John's skin and made him hate the General even more.

"The matter has been resolved and I assume the man in question has been tried," Woolsey replied.

"He has been executed," Maloo corrected, his attention shifting to Ford and Cadman, silently assessing them, before moving back to Woolsey. "After all he almost began a war with Atlantis, and risked damaging the reputation of the Genii Confederation."

Woolsey, obviously thrown by the execution news, recovered a second later. "I see. I am glad to hear that your people recognise that his actions were very serious."

"Indeed we do," Maloo replied. "Your speaking with me directly will be pleasant news to Leader Cowen to know that you do not blame us incorrectly for that event."

"Of course," Woolsey replied instantly. "After all we have a signed peace treaty between our peoples, Atlantis and the Alliance. However, we hope to forge further ties through trade, or perhaps assisting in other ways, with different people within the Alliance."

Maloo looked interested for sure now. "I will pass that along, and perhaps we can indeed speak after the ceremonies. I am sure there is much we can help each other with, as you commented," Maloo concluded. However, his gaze was moving away, probably to the line of other guests behind John who were all too eager to meet the groom.

"I look forward to it," Woolsey concluded in return and immediately moved away, Cadman and Ford following.

John held his ground for a moment longer though, taking in the overly tasselled picture of the Genii General. Maloo's attention returned to him, the grey eyes unyielding as they stared back.

John realised the guy hadn't moved any part of his body other than his head and his mouth all through of the conversation. He was static, like he had a rod up his...

"Major?" Woolsey called quietly. "Let us leave the General to his other guests."

John began to move away, but he kept his eyes on the General, and Maloo watched him in return.

Moving away from Maloo, John was instantly swallowed up in the crowd of guests, blocking his view. Hating to turn his back on the Genii, even with so many between them, John reluctantly followed Woolsey and the others away to the side of the yard. John glanced over his shoulder several times though, catching brief glances of Maloo as he nodded to more guests, holding court.

He was going to be Teyla's husband...

She had said it was a political decision.

John saw that now.

That guy wasn't Teyla's sort, not really. He was cold, hard, steely and probably didn't have an ounce of passion in his body.

Unlike John's Teyla, who was a beautiful, passionate, creature of sensations and...

John snapped himself out of the distracting chaotic thoughts before he got pulled in.

He looked at the people crowded around him, the sea of people all standing too close, all merging into a blur of confusion, his heart pounding in his chest.

He shouldn't have come here. He should have said he was sick.

"Hello John," a soft female voice cut through the madness, drawing all his attention round as Sitayi came into view. Her unusual colourful skin and the shine of the many amulets hanging from her clothes caught the sunlight, as did her very welcome smile.

"Hi," he replied, desperately grateful to see her, someone he liked, someone he intuitively trusted. Only he remembered where he was. "Hello, Ambassador Sitayi," he corrected himself.

Her smile widened as one of her warm purple hands patted against one of his. "Do not stand on formalities with me, John. After all we are both welcome here as family, are we not?"

He found himself catching her elderly yet soft purple hand in his as he returned her smile. She felt like an anchor in all this madness.

"Ambassador Sitayi," Woolsey greeted her brightly, stepping up beside John. "It is good to see you."

"And you Mr Woolsey," she replied. "I had hoped to sit with you and talk over the latest I have been reading from our cultural exchange."

"Oh?" Woolsey asked as he sipped from a glass that he had acquired from somewhere.

Ford pushed a glass into John's free hand – it was the juice that John always liked to drink here.

"Drink it," Ford instructed him quietly. "You look like you could use it."

"Thanks," John muttered and lifted the glass to his lips. Its sharp sweetness was good.

"I have been recovering from an illness," Sitayi said.

"I hope you are fully recovered," Woolsey checked worriedly.

"I am, though it does take time to regain one's strength," she admitted. "But whilst I laid in my recovery bed, I put upon reading one of the books that your people exchanged with us."

"I hope it was interesting," Woolsey replied.

"It was," Sitayi replied and then glanced directly upwards to the sky above them.

Her hand tightened on John's, and he hadn't realised that he was still holding onto her.

"It is about to rain," Sitayi added, "I suggest that we move inside. I was hoping to select a good seat at the back of the Ceremonial Room which will provide the best view, perhaps you could join me. Help an elderly lady get the best of seats."

"Of course," Woolsey gushed.

Sitayi squeezed John's hand and then let go. He was okay though, sure he was, about to head into the room where Teyla was going to marry her terminator of a husband.

Sitayi led them inside and into a familiar looking corridor. John followed on automatic, taking another sip of the Athosian juice just to do something. Sitayi and Woolsey were talking philosophy by the sounds of it as they led the way down two more corridors. As they passed a large window, John heard the patter of rain against the glass. Sitayi had been right.

John recalled that Zabetha had once told him that Athos had a rainy season, and as it had been raining yesterday and now today, which was the most rain that John had seen on Athos, he guessed the rainy season was starting. Typical that it would now.

After passing two more large windows, Sitayi led the way, using Woolsey's arm, into a long high ceiling room. The thick smell of good Athosian incense hit John as he entered the room, taking in the sight of the wedding decorations of banners, flowers, and the massive amount of fast filling white chairs stretching down the long room. They had come in at the back entrance, where there were fewer chairs and another small table supporting jugs of juice and water.

However, John's eye was immediately drawn to the wonderful sight of two familiar Elite warriors. He felt instantly better at seeing them here.

Halling and Si were separating apart from each other in the middle of the room, guests leaning quickly out of their way as the warriors passed by. As they parted from the centre of the room, they left an open space, allowing John a nice clear uninterrupted view straight down to the far end of the room, where a raised area supported a green altar. He remembered it from Zabetha's wedding, and seeing it, along with all the wedding decor, made it all seem like a real proper wedding.

He guessed to all these people, a Political Marriage was just as real.

John quickly looked away, and focused on following Woolsey and Sitayi to the closest chairs. It wasn't the best place to sit, John could tell that right away. Despite what Sitayi had said, the view wasn't good from back here, but it was close enough to the entrance they had just come through. Maybe Sitayi wanted to sit near an exit. Which was a little strange, because any time John had seen her at an Official Athosian do, she had usually had a pride of place position near the front.

He glanced at the elderly, kept surprisingly spritely, lady as she sat down. He wasn't an expert, but he thought she did look paler than usual. Maybe she wanted to be near an exit in case she felt sick. A glance back to the doors confirmed to John that there were plenty of Athosian guards on duty, and remembering that every guest had been thoroughly searched, and that both Halling and Si were here, made him feel reasonably comfortable about the security.

Taking a seat alongside Woolsey looking down the length of the bannered up room was not comfortable however. Cadman was stationed behind Woolsey, her eyes alert, while Ford stood nearby, scanning the growing number of guests moving to their seats. John noticed that most of the other chairs had names on them, but theirs and Sitayi' didn't have anything on them. He got the impression that these were the spare seats near the back for unexpected arrivals...or troublemakers.

The thought suddenly occurred to him that they might be back here because of him. Maybe Torren wanted John out the way...or maybe Teyla did. That would be more like it. After their final shouted argument, he wouldn't put it past her.

She probably didn't want to see him as she stood up there at the front, probably all dressed up for her new unfeeling husband.

He couldn't stay in this flimsy, white chair anymore. He got up quickly, moving to Ford's side.

"Vako's here," Ford noted with eagerness as he gestured off towards where John could see the Bantos Champion among the guests near the drinks table. Vako noticed them and lifted a hand, which Ford returned. "Think we might get a chance to spar with the guy sometime?"

"You wouldn't last long," John replied.

"We could teach him some Earth moves," Ford suggested as a bickering couple pushed close by, arguing over who had read a chair name incorrectly.

John looked back down the room to see that Si and Halling had taken up places on either wall, halfway down the room. He made the decision at the same time as he opened his mouth. "I'm gonna go check in with the Elite."

"Okay," Ford replied.

"Stay close to Woolsey," John instructed before he turned back to Woolsey and Sitayi.

"Yes, Sir," Ford promised.

"I'm going to talk to the Elite," John told Woolsey. "Check in on things."

Woolsey didn't object, used to John disappearing on their visits here anyway. Of course Woolsey hadn't known what John had actually been up to during those alone times with Teyla.

As John moved away, he exchanged a smile with Sitayi, but he noticed that her attention quickly slid away to look down the length of the room with a frown. His mention of going to see the Elite had changed her mood, but John dismissed it, lifting his gaze to meet Cadman's. She was all professionalism and careful watcher. He exchanged a nod with her. Including her in his team had been the best choice he could have made.

Unlike some other choices he had made.

He moved across the width of the room, working his through the amassing guests to reach the far side and then headed down that side aisle towards Si.

Si had probably clocked his approach early on, but it was only once John was a metre away from the big guy that Si looked round and lifted one eyebrow a fraction. John felt instantly more relaxed at the acknowledgment. He couldn't deal with all this political crap going on around him, but the Elite he could relate to, could deal with happily.

"Hey," John said as he stepped up next to Si. "Didn't think this would be your scene," he found himself joking.

Si' dark eyes moved over John's face and John felt instantly transparent. "Nor yours," Si commented.

And didn't that just hold a wealth of meaning.

John nodded vaguely as he glanced away, holding his glass tightly against his middle. "Anything for Atlantis," he answered.

A few people looked away as John looked round, probably having noticed that John was talking with the Elite. No one else had approached the Elite that John had seen, so he guessed him standing here was worthy of interest. John didn't care about that though, he just focused on staying here with someone he trusted. Even though Si had twice tried to beat him up sparring, he respected Si.

"How are things with the Elite?" He asked, looking back up at the man's stony still profile as he watched the guests. There was something comforting about the stillness of the big guy. John remembered back on the Glisi world, after they had gotten there to help save Halling and Oneakka, John had stayed behind with Si to oversee the clean up operation. He'd chatted away to Si through it all, finding the man's monosyllabic responses no distraction from carrying on a decent conversation with him.

"Good," Si replied simply, his eyes moving slowly over the crowd, working security, as an Elite would do even when they were guests.

"Good, good," John uttered. "Things are good in Atlantis," he reported. "Nice weather, no one's tried to blow us up or anything recently."

He turned his back to the wall to look out on the room alongside Si. "Lot of people here."

Si didn't reply, but that was a yes.

"I hear you're heading out on some big battle later," John asked next, glancing at Si again. An eyebrow lifted vaguely. "Course, you can't talk about it, I understand," John replied instantly. "Hope it goes well. And if you need any help..."

Si' looked round with a faint frown. "Hey," John replied, "I'm just saying, we're here if you need us." It was a cheeky offer to the Elite maybe, but still, it wasn't like Atlantis hadn't helped them out before now.

Si returned his attention to the guests.

"Yeah," John muttered as he looked out at the filling chairs.

He should probably head back to the naughty seats at the back, where he could hide and not actually watch the ceremonies. Maybe he could even slip out unseen, maybe that was why Sitayi had sat them back there.

Si moved slightly next to John, or rather his arm did as he downed the last of his drink. The Elite moved forward to set the glass down on a nearby empty chair, but abruptly an Athosian arrived at his side and whisked the empty glass away. John watched as the Athosian moved away – she was very female and the way she smiled back at Si implied that the two knew each other.

John looked up at Si with more interest. "Friend of yours?" He asked.

Si remained motionless.

"None of my business, obviously," John replied for him. "Think I've heard about you having 'friends' in the city." He glanced up at the big guy again to see if that created a reaction. Nothing moved except the man's eyes watching the room.

John glanced over the usual mammoth amount of weapons strapped to the guy, at his hips, his back, and hanging from only one bandolier today stretched across his wide Herculean chest. "Do you sleep in all that stuff?"

"No," Si replied immediately this time, surprising John a little.

"Sure," John responded. "Would be uncomfortable otherwise."

Si remained silent this time.

"Could accidently pull a pin out of a grenade," John joked weakly as he glanced away, steadfastly not looking down the business end of the room with the altar. "Wouldn't want to be uncomfortable," he muttered to himself with feeling.

Across the room he noticed Halling was looking his way. The tall man nodded and John nodded back. See, this was how people should interact – with respect and no stupid Genii threats or blank grey stares over twisted political words.

Almost everyone was in their seats now, like the play was about to begin. Oh God.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

There was some commotion at the main entrance to the room up near the altar end, and as so many of the guests were looking that way, John couldn't help himself from looking too. It was Maloo and his Genii guards arriving into the room, people flocking around him like he was a superstar and everyone wanted his autograph.

Among the increased activity, John spotted Zabetha, decked out in a pretty number, and Elkaska was stepping up onto the raised stage supporting the altar. The trader glanced back at Maloo holding court by the front row, and John got the distinct impression that Teyla's uncle was unimpressed with his soon to be new family member.

John looked back at the Genii. One of Maloo's guards was looking his way with cold focused interest. Or was the interest focused on Si? No, no one glared at an Elite – or at least didn't for long. John met the Genii' look.

Yeah, I hang with Elite, he thought at the guy.

The guard looked away, like he was scanning the crowd, but too quickly glanced back at John and then away.

John watched Maloo speaking to more people and finally take his seat. His guards didn't say anything to him, just moved to the side to take up their place along with a few other body guards lining the wall up that end of the room. After all it was the end of the room where all the important people were, not sat right at the back out of the way like some others.

John decided right then that he wasn't going to go back to his seat, no he was going to stay right here. A glance back towards the far end of the room confirmed to him that Cadman was still stood, being at the back she could, watching over Woolsey and Ford was at the politician's side. They were in a good position and safe as far as John could tell. Besides, if something happened, the best place to be for instant intell was alongside an Elite. He had learnt that well enough.

Sudden movement up by the altar drew John's reluctant attention as Torren appeared, having arrived through an inset side door off the stage area. John hadn't noticed the door before now. Great, even his basic military skills were failing him today. It was a good thing he was stood next to an Elite then.

Torren stepped forward as chimes rang out down the room. The mass of voices lowered quickly as everyone began to hush.

It was about to start.

Torren was wearing the same outfit he had worn at Zabetha's wedding ceremony. The sight of the Athosian leader caught at John differently today though. He stirred up a rush of anger at the guy for being who he was – someone who encouraged his daughters to make stupid political marriages.

Yeah, who was John kidding? Like anyone could force Teyla into something she didn't want. He'd gotten to see the stubborn, annoying, arrogant side of her pretty clearly yesterday.

His eyes snapped past Torren, Elkaska, and Zabetha to that open door at the side of the stage. Teyla wasn't anywhere to be seen yet, so she was probably in there, just inside the shadows, perhaps peering out...

He looked away quickly as the chimes rang out again and Torren's voice called out strongly, welcoming everyone's for attention the 'blessed event'.

Blessed event? Crazy, stupid event more like.

John couldn't watch any of it, and found himself staring down at his shiny dress shoes, past his forgotten, tightly held glass of juice.

"...today is yet another reminder of why we are all here, united," Torren's voice stated, everyone listening with rapt attention. "It is together that we have been able to change that what was seen as impossible. With the great aid of the military and the Honoured Elite, our people are safe from the hands of the Wraith."

John blinked down at the floor, noticing the odd flowery pattern to the carpet.

"And it is together that we can continue that push for all to be free, everyone in this entire galaxy. It is together that we are strong and can make that difference. It may take more generations that we can imagine, or it may take only one. No one can see exactly what is to come, but I do know that it is only with a unified strength of will, of all of us working together to be the best that we can be, that we can forge that bright future for all of us and for the generations to come."

John took a breath – damn it if that didn't all make sense. It was all John believed in himself, but was it really possible? How was Teyla selling herself into marriage really going to make that kind of difference?

He looked up from the floor, his eyes seeking out Maloo sat front and centre in front of Torren and the altar. The Genii were strong, from a certain point of view, but Teyla had told John about the instability of its Government, which was probably far from public knowledge in the Alliance. They probably needed this marriage, to make them look stronger, for Cowen to prove to the Genii population that he had a handle on things, that the Elite were their friends. But, Cowen would probably use it to crush his people just that bit further, to rule with an even tighter iron fist.

And Atlantis? If Cowen set his sights back on the city, would the Elite help him? If they thought Atlantis was a threat to the Alliance, would the massive Military Fleet jump out of hyperspace over Atlantis and bombard it from above?

John had seen what a planet looked like after the Alliance Fleet was done with it. Everything had burned - the ground, the seas, and the atmosphere.

If Kolya somehow got back into power with the Genii, John had no doubt that if the man couldn't have Atlantis he'd probably happily see it burn, preferably with John inside.

"...opportunity for us to work together, to forge new ties," Torren was saying. "So in light of that, my eldest daughter, Honoured Elite warrior Emmagan has decided to enter into contract with another world. Through that link, we will become stronger as a whole, and make a greater difference to the galaxy."

John frowned at the back of Maloo's head.

He couldn't see that the Genii really gave a damn about the rest of the galaxy. Every time Atlantis had run into any of them, it had been obvious that they had only ever been working for their own interests, not for any grand greater scheme of the Alliance.

Maloo didn't give a damn about Teyla; to him she was an object, something to be acquired for his people and his own political advancement.

A new movement up on the stage registered on the edge of John's vision, moving colours and a new presence. John refused to focus on it though.

She was on the stage now, he just knew it.

He could feel that she was in the room, feel it in the subconscious part of him that had noticed the second she had stepped into the tiniest edge of his vision.

He didn't want to look at her. He didn't want to see her decked out in a stunning dress, all beautiful and sacrificial.

But it wasn't a sacrifice for her. He couldn't remember everything she had told him during their argument, his memory having focused on only specific details, which had basically been the bits that had pissed him off. But, he remembered her saying that this wasn't all that big a deal to her. That she could just get on with her life afterwards.

That is was a "simple political decision". Yeah, he remembered that bit just fine.

Because that was what forgetting him was for her, a simple political decision to end what they had and move on to her new Genii grey eyed...

John looked away from the Genii and from the teasing raised stage from which Torren was still going on about unity and combined strength. Yeah, because that was all the Genii cared about – strength.

Not passion, not respect, and not caring about sending someone into your bedroom at night to try and kill you.

If the Genii became political best buddies with the Elite and with the trading gurus that the Athosians were, what would happen to Atlantis?

"...would wish to put forward an offering to enter into Political Marriage contract?" Torren announced, his voice falling away, and John realised the moment was here. He looked quickly back round to Maloo.

The Genii stood up immediately, people murmuring from the chairs close to John. Everything he caught sounded expected.

"I wish to put forward an offer of contract," Maloo stated loudly for all to hear before moving forward and stepping up onto the raised stage.

Which was when John's eyes finally landed on Teyla.

She wasn't in a long pretty dress or anything so soft. She was instead in her most Elite of outfits. Her swords were on her back, a dark brown coat tightly outlining her strong petite figure down to her round hips, where the butt of a stunner was obvious. Her face was impassive, her Elite mask fully in place, and her chin was held high.

She was so beautiful and regal that John felt like he had been stabbed through the chest.

He had felt nothing but anger and bitter sadness since he had stormed away from her quarters yesterday, believing that that they really had been shouting their last words at each other.

He had hated her last night, had cursed her, and had missed her.

And there she stood, seeming untouchable, powerful, indestructible, and stunningly perfect.

Maloo crossed John's view of her, breaking the moment, and as the Genii General moved across to stand before her, John saw the tiniest shift in Teyla's expression. The lifting of her eyes to look up at the uniformed grey eyed General.

She didn't like him.

John saw it instantly, felt it in his belly like someone had punched him.

She didn't like Maloo.

John stared at her face, her impassive Elite mask, but knew what he felt, what he had seen in that moment. There was no light in her eyes, none of the passionate woman he had known, had kissed, had...

His heart was hammering in his chest as he watched Maloo move aside, saw Teyla look out at the audience again...looking for another offer? Someone to...

Pull her out of a slaver's cage?

The room slid away from John as the idea rose up. It wasn't like it was completely new, because it had lingered around in the back of his head vaguely last night, but like the inappropriate street kid that no one wanted to talk to, it had been ignored.

Kept in the dark.

It came storming forward now though, just like another big decision had done in John's life. One that had had him turning his chopper back into enemy territory, against all orders, advice, and shouted words bellowing in his ears.

Or the time he had decided to take up an offer to be stationed in another galaxy.

He couldn't let her do it. Couldn't see her with that man, couldn't let Atlantis be stomped on by the Genii, by the burning firepower of the Alliance Military Fleet. This way he could stop it all, protect his people, and undo what she had started.

He stepped away from the wall, thrust his glass at Si, spilling the liquid over his hand and probably over Si' front as well, but all his attention was on the stage ahead and the likely truly stupid decision he was making.

He moved forward, Si having taken the glass from him, and strode along the side aisle of chairs towards the front.

"I'm making an offer," he called loudly, knowing they weren't the proper political words to say, but it sure got everyone's attention.

Literally hundreds of eyes turned to him, not that he was watching, but the gasps and the loud brushing of everyone turning in their seats was enough to know what was going on.

He just focused on getting to the front, moving around the front row of seats and climbing up onto the stage.

His heart was just about to explode out of his chest, but he had started this and he'd darn well see it through.

Torren turned to John as he arrived before the altar, the guy nodding his head slowly, as he had to Maloo.

"Ambassador Major Sheppard of Atlantis," Torren announced loudly, probably to fill in those in the audience who didn't know exactly who John was, and in response there was another round of loud gasping and chattering. "Your offer is heard." Torren gestured towards Teyla.

John slid his gaze from Torren onto her.

Her eyes were massively wide, the Elite mask broken, and didn't that just make his day.

Maloo stood beyond her, but John kept his eyes on her as he moved to where Maloo had stood before and bowed his head to her.

As he looked back up at her, her control was back in place, and so was the anger he remembered so clearly from yesterday.

He lifted his chin, meeting that anger with stubbornness of his own.

"Are there to be any other offers for this contract?" Torren called to the room. "No?" he continued a little quickly. "Then in accordance with tradition, as there has been an unexpected offer for my daughter, our Honoured Elite, a short recess shall begin to allow discussion of the new offer."

John guessed that was his cue.

Teyla turned away instantly and headed straight towards that side door that John had spotted earlier, and John followed at his own pace.

"Just them," he heard Elkaska's voice though and he glanced round to see that the Athosian man had blocked Maloo from following him and Teyla. "To discuss his offer."

Maloo settled back on his heels, but John saw the grey eyes fix on him.

John looked away and followed Teyla's sword-laden back in through the flower decorated doorway.

There was an Athosian guard inside, who immediately stepped out behind John as he entered, and the door immediately slid shut. The gossiping rush of voices outside was instantly cut away and suddenly it was far too quiet in the small room.

Teyla was still walking away though, heading to the far end of the room, probably worried that the shouting would be heard outside.

John followed her, but suddenly she wheeled round and confronted him.

All her Elite control was gone and she was once again the angry, unpredictable woman from yesterday.

And damn it if that wasn't better than that ice cold mask outside. Something primitive in John grinned at the reaction he brought out in her, pleased that it meant in some way he could get to her, that he meant something.

"_What_ are you doing?" She demanded angrily as she gestured back towards the closed door.

"Saving your ass," John responded without thinking, his own anger that he had been dealing with since yesterday suddenly having an outlet again.

Her nostrils flared and her chin lifted. "I do not need to be _saved_ by anyone," she stated.

"Didn't look that way to me," John retaliated.

"This is a _serious_ matter," she responded.

"I know that," John interrupted her. "I know what I'm doing." Did he?

"You are reacting out of anger and are not thinking straight," she told him.

"That's what you'd like to think," John spat back at her. "Actually, this has nothing to do with you," he found himself saying. "This is about Atlantis. You think we're going to sit back and watch the Genii get all cute and snugly with the Elite?"

She pursed her lips, the fury probably because he had just insulted the Elite. "This is about the Genii?" She asked mockingly.

"Yes," John countered. "The people who tried to take Atlantis and tried to _kill_ me."

"It was one man," Teyla argued, her voice rising. "And if it were not for _me_, he would have succeeded."

"You'd like that," John found himself arguing back. "Then you could just run off into the sunset with your boring, stick up his ass, Genii General."

"Do not speak to me that way, John," she warned, one golden finger pointed straight at him. "This is not a childish game."

"No, it isn't," he agreed. "It's a _simple political decision_," he used her words with great relish. "Atlantis suffers with the Genii married to the Elite, so I'm putting a stop to it."

Teyla shook her head in disbelief. "Such a statement only applies that I will choose you, which I will _not_." She spat out and turned away, showing him the handles of her swords and the long curling ends of her braided hair around her shoulders.

Silence fell for a second.

"This is about making the Alliance stronger," Teyla said, her voice calmer. Sadder? "It is about about making a difference."

John felt a rush of panic.

"You think making nice with the Genii is going to do that?" He asked, thinking quickly. "Your dad talked about making new changes to save the rest of the galaxy from the Wraith, how will teaming up with the Genii help?" He pushed, the argument pouring from his lips as quickly as he could. "If you work with us, with Atlantis, it's sending a message that things are changing, that the galaxy working together is more important than just those in power within the Alliance."

She glanced back round at him, her eyes sharp, her lips closed.

She was listening.

She was actually listening!

"You choose Maloo and you're just another political bride. Sure you're Elite, but that's a detail that won't mean much to those politicians out there. It won't make any difference on the front line, but with Atlantis, we can work with the Elite, with the Alliance, fight the Wraith together," he pushed hurriedly, desperately. "This will send a message that will make a _real_ difference."

She turned away again, pacing away slightly, but she was thinking, listening to him. Which was good, because he was pretty much out of ideas to persuade her.

Part of him considered stepping up to her, kissing her, trying to bring that connection between them into the argument, but he wouldn't. This wasn't about sex. It wasn't about the chance to be with her again. This was about stopping the marriage to Maloo and the Genii.

To stop her from making a massive mistake, and damning Atlantis and him along with it.

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TBC


	18. The Marriage Ceremony

**Note: ** Thank you to all those who so kindly wrote to me about the last three chapters. I was quite overwhelmed by the response, thank you all so much. I apologise for the delay this last week, but with a very difficult work week, fighting off a head cold, one of my best mates going through a break up and another good friend on the verge of one, I have been quite distracted with Real Life. However, here we go again, and to start here are two new chapters. I hope you guys enjoy the drama...

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**Chapter 18 – The Marriage Ceremony**

She could not believe this was happening.

Confusion, confliction, and a rising sense of panic assaulted Teyla as she tried to gather her thoughts.

He was using this simply as a way to block the Genii from gaining power in the Alliance, it was logical for him. Though it was madness considering how they had ended matters between them yesterday, but she could understand his rationale.

A rationale that extended beyond the Genii to the entire galaxy.

If she joined Athos and the Elite with Atlantis it could make a very real difference in the galaxy. It could even unite further than the walls of Atlantis, to other non-Alliance worlds who worked with Atlantis, and even to an entirely different galaxy!

If she accepted his offer, it could change everything.

Was that not what the original concept of Political Marriages was designed to do? To unite disparate worlds together against the Wraith. The war against the Wraith transcended borders and cultural differences – that was the very foundation of the Alliance. Of what the Elite fought for.

What she believed in to her soul.

And John was offering her a way to do this, to send out real waves across the Alliance. She could remind all the Alliance worlds that the battle still warred, that they were a part of something bigger than just the comfortable safe worlds at the centre of Alliance space.

This would do far more than she had ever hoped with a marriage within the established Alliance worlds. This could truly leave an echo into history and provide very real assistance and alliance for Athos, the Elite, and the rest of the Alliance.

It would also help Atlantis. Out practically alone across the other side of the galaxy, it was a stronghold against the Wraith, and it was a potential fountain of Ancestral and Earth technology and strategic skill.

It made so much sense.

But it was John.

She had wanted, had _needed_, distance from him. He threw her from her centre, made her throw things in anger, had changed her in ways she was most uncomfortable.

As much as she hated to think of yesterday's angry shouted words with each other it had still been the correct action for her to take. His behaviour in response had been proof enough. To think of the things he had said – questioning her integrity, questioning her loyalty... The anger rose again just thinking of it.

She glanced over her shoulder at him now. His eyes were wide and worried. He needed this for his people.

But, was he also doing this to somehow get back at her for deciding to marry? Did he think this might be a way for him to push himself back into her life romantically?

To think of that made the panic rise again. She needed distance from him, but this offer seemed so logical, seemed everything and more that she had hoped to gain from this Political Marriage.

Why did it have to be John though?

He frowned at her silence, the annoyance still plainly there from yesterday. He was still angry with her.

She realised that perhaps yesterday's argument had never actually ended; there had simply been a pause, and the emotions were still the same. Only now he was trying to dominate the situation, to use the situation with her to his people's advantage, and she saw that satisfaction in his eyes.

He felt he was saving her.

That got her back up. She did not need saving.

Yet, had she not been inwardly desperately relieved when she had heard another offer called in competition to Maloo? Why did it have to be John though?

She did not want to marry Maloo. But, she would if the offer was more beneficial, but it was not. John's offer presented her with more than she had asked.

It could change so much, but at the expense of her peace of mind.

If she married him, she would have to find a way to maintain this emotional distance, to ensure that they did not go back to what they had before. She could not be distracted, especially now with the Outer Lantana battle soon to be concluded.

She realised she had obviously already made her decision. There was no decision to be made – Atlantis offered more than the Genii, far more.

After all this was a political decision, which was a point she had stressed to John yesterday and he seemed intent to repeat over and over again now.

This was about politics, not feelings.

She just had to make sure that he understood that.

She turned back round towards him.

"Things cannot be as they were between us," she stated to him, though part of her feeling quite sad to have to voice the truth so strictly. "It would be a Political Marriage _only_."

She had seen the relieved victory spread across his face, and he nodded now with annoying smugness. He thought he was getting his way, but if he thought he could manipulate her emotionally he was very wrong. She had to keep her distance.

"I mean it, John," she repeated clearly, annoyed at herself that her own anger was rising again. "I cannot be distracted anymore by petty romances."

She had known the words would cut at him, and they did. He looked away, his jaw flexing, the smug expression gone.

It had been cruel to describe what they had shared in such a way, but it was important that he understood that this was about real life outside of romance. This was to save lives and perhaps free the entire galaxy from the Wraith. They were high ideals, but then she was an Elite. This contract with Atlantis was about gaining strategic value, not protecting her heart.

As much as it ached inside.

A foolish part of her was tempted to reach out to him, to touch his warm skin one last time, to... She stopped it all, forcing herself to remember how he had spoken to her yesterday, how he had influenced her to throwing things, and his annoying smugness now.

He looked back at her with hard eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. "It's just a simple political decision," he replied, repeating those words back at her yet again. The sarcastic tone itched at her, made her feel that he was trying to win this battle with words and a tone that suggested that it was her who was the one not understanding that this was simply political.

She watched him carefully though, assessing his level of truthfulness.

He looked determined, and angry with her.

It was the response she had wanted, but one that abruptly made her want to cry.

She took a sharp breath and worked to be calm about this, reaching for her Elite control. This contract was about the future, not coddling to her weak heart. Or his.

"We will spend little time together," she reminded him, feeling it important to stress the points of the contract that he may not understand, and perhaps to reinforce the details for herself.

He nodded as if pleased with that statement, which broke her control for a moment. When had he become so infuriating?

"When we do spend time together," she continued, falling on the facts and details to keep control of the situation, "be that on Athos, in Atlantis, or on the Sythus, we will continue with our normal duties, and we will have separate quarters," she stressed. He simply nodded, but said nothing in return. "We have our own work to do and we must focus on it."

"Fine by me," he replied simply, but the tone was one of retaliation. "How often do we meet up with our separate quarters?"

"Standard Political Marriage contracts usually state two hundred days within a standard Alliance yearly cycle-" she began to explain calmly.

"How long is a standard Alliance yearly cycle?" John interrupted, his tone as forcibly unemotional as her own.

"It is based on an average of the first Alliance worlds, at three hundred days per yearly cycle. Maloo and I had negotiated only fifty days together a year."

"A sixth of the year?" John noted with surprise. "Doesn't show much in the way of unification." He was going to argue the point, and she just knew it was because he wanted to get his own way and achieve more from the contract than Maloo would have done.

"We are both busy people," Teyla pointed out logically.

"A hundred days," John suggested.

He was doubling Maloo's number. She tried not to sigh too loudly. "What is wrong with fifty days?"

"You'd prefer two hundred days?" John argued childishly.

A brush of sound at the door drew her strained attention away from John to see Father entering from the Ceremonial Room, fortunately alone. "Is that how long this discussion is going to take?" He asked as he approached.

The rush of noise of the Ceremonial Room behind him was a fortunate distraction, and she watched as the door slid shut once more, cutting away the hundreds of curious gossiping voices outside.

She looked to Father as he approached, desperately glad at his arrival. He would stop his discussion from turning into another shouting argument. Father would bring calm and help her keep John to logic, rather than him trying to find ways to get at her because she had ended their relationship. He was being petty and Father would assist in reminding him that this was about greater things than their feelings of hurt.

"I doubt our guests will be willing to wait that long," Father added as he reached her and John. She was a little surprised at his joking attitude considering the situation.

"Two hundred days, half with you in Atlantis, half with me wherever you are," John stated to her though, blatantly ignoring Father's entrance.

"Fifty days is already set out in the marriage contract," Teyla explained with as much patience as she could muster, knowing Father would agree since he had helped her negotiate the same with Maloo.

"That can easily be altered," Father put in though, and she looked round at him in alarm.

"Fifty days was almost to the point of insult, Teyla," Father said softly to her, "and was only agreed because of your insistence and the fact that Maloo is a busy man himself."

"Well, I still insist on fifty days," she replied, feeling annoyed with Father now. Whose side was he on? She noticed that he had positioned himself to stand alongside and between both her and John, not siding with either of them. It was a subtle move, but one that was very telling of her politically wise father. He was placing himself in the role of mediator, and that realisation made her feel suddenly quite embarrassed. She wondered if perhaps she did not appear as much in control as she hoped.

"Two hundred days or no offering," John stated, drawing her attention back to him forcibly. He was continuing in this same childish manner it seemed. "You can go marry Maloo," he added with a smile that told her that he somehow knew she did not want to marry the Genii.

How did he know that?

She felt her back rise. He was once again thinking he was "saving" her, that he was pushing her into a corner so that he would get his own way.

How did he know about her not wanting to marry Maloo though? Had she not hidden that well enough? Or was it, she realised with annoyance, that perhaps he was simply assuming that he would always be her first choice over any other men. The arrogance of him if that were true.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "If you wish to withdraw your offer then that is fine, but then I will tie the Elite with the Genii."

He pursed his lips. She had called his bluff and now he was stuck.

Tense silence held between them as they glared at one another.

"May I suggest one hundred and fifty days in the contract?" Father put in. "With the stipulation that there is no set schedule to the timing, since you are both busy military personnel."

Teyla looked at Father, surprised once again at his behaviour. "One hundred days would be the more logical offer."

"That's half of a standard contract," John pointed out as if he were an expert on such matters. "Atlantis needs to be seen as worth more than that."

He just wanted his own way. This was not about politics, it was about him taking what he could from her.

"He is correct, Teyla," Father told her. He was referring to her by her first name, something he never did around anyone but family. He _was_ taking John's side, even though he had to understand the situation for her.

It seemed her own father was pushing her into the same corner.

"If you wish this contract to be as significant as it can be, we need to make it clear that we respect Atlantis," Father continued, "Staying at fifty days, perhaps even one hundred, would be seen as disrespectful. It took considerable work to persuade Maloo to the fifty days of his offer, and then I had to supplement the trading contracts in return."

This was not about trading contracts! He was asking her to spend seventy five days a year in Atlantis, away from the Alliance, away from the Elite. And in John's territory and among his people.

But then that was the point of a Political Marriage contract. Sharing of time to reflect the unity of their peoples.

John would have to spend seventy five days with her as well – on the Sythus, here in Tjaru, or even at the Training Facility if she were there. He would be in her life so much. The sense of panic rose again, but she squashed it down.

She looked back at John. He was looking smug again, though his eyes still held that wild look, as did his hair which seemed more untamed than usual today.

"Your time with me will likely be spent in battle situations," she reminded him, wondering if that would alter his determination on the number of shared days. "I will not alter my timetable; you will be placed in very dangerous situations."

"Back atcha'," he responded.

"Fine then," Teyla agreed impulsively.

"Good," John replied, his tone still arguing even if the word was of agreement.

She glared up at him, annoyed, and somewhat relieved as well. This was the contract that was best for her people.

"It's just a _simple_ _political_ _decision_," John concluded with a smile that seemed less than kind. She wanted to punch him.

"Yes, it is," she responded though, lifting her chin.

Gritty tense silence fell across the room.

"Excellent then," Father spoke cheerfully into the tense silence. "I suggest that, if your negotiations are resolved, that we return to our guests and Teyla can make her announcement. Mr Woolsey seemed quite anxious to go over the marriage contract."

John's entire face slackened with worried concern and he snapped his eyes to the far closed door. Teyla felt a real burst of satisfaction to see his mask break, and that his reaction implied that he had not discussed this offering with Mr Woolsey before he had made it. Had it been an impulsive act? It would be so like him.

He had gotten what he had wanted, but clearly there would be consequences for him. Well, once this contract was signed, it would be too late.

Trying not to smile too much, she turned away from his worried face. "Good, let us proceed," she stated as she strode towards the closed door.

Best to get this over and done with now. Then, once she had met a few guests she would quickly retire back to the Sythus and get on with her life. The battle ahead at Outer Lantana was going to be more significant than any outside of the Elite could know, and it was certainly far better than being here, locking in childish petty arguments with John.

John thought he was getting what he wanted from her, well she would get what she needed from this and move on. This contract was her gift and her sacrifice to her people and even to Atlantis, so it was time to get it done.

She triggered open the door, the mass of voices washing over her as she strode back out onto the raised platform. The voices all rose and lowered again, all eyes on her no doubt.

The situation on the platform had changed somewhat in her absence. Mr Woolsey was up on the platform, going over the marriage contract with Elkaska, frowning and looking concerned. Behind him, stood close but below the platform were the two guards from Atlantis, Lieutenant Ford being one of them.

Stood close by to those from Atlantis was Halling, and to the far right, Maloo's Genii guards had also taken up a place below the platform. Si was up on the platform, stood close to Mr Woolsey and Elkaska, but his attention was subtly on Maloo.

Teyla returned to her place central on the platform and looked directly to Maloo. He looked faintly concerned, but his military control hid most of it. She inclined her head to him and he returned the gesture.

Then she waited as Father retook his place to her left and John moved around behind him to reach Mr Woolsey and Elkaska. Teyla noticed that Si stepped up to John as he arrived and thrust a glass of drink against John's middle.

"You left this behind," Si intoned to John, as a small patch of drink soaked into the front of John's blue uniform.

"Thanks, sorry," John muttered as he took the glass and moved to Woolsey's side. She could see the worry in John now, and she suspected that the reality of his act was settling upon him now.

Amused despite herself, she turned towards the waiting audience and an assistant somewhere took the correct cue to ring the chimes for silence.

The audience dropped into sudden immediate, curious silence, all eyes upon her. Except she heard a faint shifting around of people to the left that told her that John was being shown where to stand.

She ran her eyes over the audience, drawing upon her Elite calm once more, feeling it settle easily into place now. This was the stage that she wanted with the Alliance, to have this marriage make a statement. All here would take in her words and they would be transmitted across the Alliance. This contract really could make a difference now, far more than the small time underhanded deals that Maloo would have gained and used to his advantage.

She took a breath. "As representative of the Elite and Athos," she began, "I have decided to enter into a Political Marriage in order to commit both the Elite and Athos to the great good that the Alliance has brought to this galaxy. As an Elite, I have seen the very darkest and most dangerous places that the Wraith rule, and as such I make this contract in hopes that it will bring us further victory and that it will strengthen not just our worlds, but the entire galaxy.

She sensed a subtle shift in Maloo's posture to her right. He knew his offering would be denied.

"My decision this day is not a personal one," she stated clearly, and not just for the audience. "It is based upon what is best for all of our people, for the Alliance, and for the future. As an Elite warrior my focus, my _life_, is dedicated to freeing all peoples from the ever present threat of the Wraith, and ensuring that freedom is maintained. To that end, I have decided that for my marriage to be significant in its act that it must be for the greater good, for not just those living in space held safe from the Wraith, but with an aim to destroy the Wraith entirely. This contract will bring peoples together, Alliance and otherwise, under the promise of freedom for all from the Wraith."

There were a few quiet murmurs as people predicted her decision.

Teyla turned towards Maloo to her right, facing him directly. "Honoured General of the Genii, I must thank you for your offer this day, but decline your offering. I would in place offer to you a select contract to battle with the Elite, an Elite representative to attend your world at your call, and trade contracts with my Athosian people."

Maloo bowed his head to her, his disappointment only just visible around his eyes. His Genii stoic control would not show anything else. "Thank you, Honoured Elite, for considering my offering, and for the offers you return in its place."

"I would hope that you and I can battle alongside one another in the days ahead," she offered, a comment that was seen as highly respectful from an Elite.

Maloo bowed deeply this time and she saw some relief to his tightly controlled expression. Her comment would save him some face with his people. "Thank you, Honoured Elite."

She inclined her head and Maloo stepped away, moving down off the platform and returned to his seat. All eyes were on him no doubt, and she waited as the Genii guards also moved away, taking up their position along the wall once more. Halling would keep an eye on them, though Teyla doubted they would do anything towards Atlantis now. In some ways, this decision really would alter the relationship between Atlantis and the Genii. Whether it would improve relationships rather than simply protecting Atlantis was another issue. One that she realised she had just made her own with this marriage.

No one would dare try to assassinate John again.

She turned away from the audience and moved towards the green marriage altar.

Zabetha stepped up close to her side, Elkaska joining them. John moved forward as well, Father subtly indicating where he should stand. Mr Woolsey stood behind John, still slyly reading through an electronic pad that would be a copy of the marriage contract.

Everyone in place, Teyla turned to face John, Father and the altar between them.

She noticed John drop his hand from where he had been self consciously brushing the patch of drink Si had spilled on his front. He didn't look as confident as he had earlier, but he held himself tall and proud for all to see.

"Ambassador Major Sheppard of the Atlantis," she intoned for all to hear. "I accept your offering given on behalf of your people, to forge new ties and bring this galaxy one step closer to pushing the Wraith from all our stars."

John bowed, his eyes not having met hers. "Thank you, Honoured Elite."

Father stepped forward and laid the large marriage contract pad down on the altar and began to speak the ceremonial words.

She focused on the words with more intense focus than she would normally do with such matters, and was aware that John was doing the same. Both of them steadfastly not looking at the other.

Behind John, Mr Woolsey had stopped trying to read the contract, and beyond him Si stood to the side, his dark eyes focused out on the audience protectively.

Glancing to Zabetha and Elkaska beside her, Teyla saw that her sister was listening to Father's words with intent focus of her own, perhaps reliving her far more emotional marriage ceremony.

And past Zabetha, Teyla saw that Elkaska was grinning happily.

At least someone was pleased with the outcome.

00000

At the far back of the Ceremonial Room, Sitayi sat back in her chair with relief. The tension that had lingered through her body all day had sapped at her already taxed energy, but now it was over.

Now there was joy and there was hope.

What she had just witnessed up on the Athosian stage brought with it the real possibility that the best of futures might lay ahead.

For a long time, long before she had even heard of the rediscovery of the Ancestral City of Atlantis, she had seen John Sheppard in her visions. She had known how important he would be in Teyla's life, how those with him could alter things for the better, and that perhaps the very best of futures might start from their marriage. That Atlantis would become a significant player in this galaxy.

And here it was, real and current, and it whispered of promise to Sitayi. It whispered that perhaps this future path was going to be one of the best, that the victories, the alliances, and futures to come would be optimistic. That the darkness would not engulf them all. That the galaxy could be saved.

Yet...

Her eyes moved unbidden to Honoured Elite Halling.

She had watched Halling grow from an infant, since Charin, her good friend, had lived in the same camp as Halling's family. Sitayi had seen Halling's Elite future before him the first time she had held him as a babe, had known the glorious warrior he would become. And here he was stood at the front of the room now, an aging warrior, but still so strong, so skilled...

But, would he fall as she had seen in the convergence?

As positive as the marriage before her could be, if Halling were to fall...the first Elite to die in the coming war...then no marriage would save them.

The darkness would descend, the ancient evil devouring all life in its battle with the Wraith...all would fall in that tearing raging death. Planets would break part, systems boil in their suns, and all life save the ancient evil would be wiped out. And then that evil would turn its eyes upon other distant galaxies.

But, if Halling did not fall...perhaps they might all survive.

If he were not the first Elite to step into the unknown darkness, alone and unaided to be slaughtered. Killed first by the ancient evil, and from there only more would fall. Including the strong powerful Athosian Elite wife upon the stage.

And without the Elite...there would be no chance of survival.

Just the evil seeping into everything.

And all Sitayi could do was uselessly hope it would not come to pass.

0000000  
TBC


	19. Uncomfortable Words

00000

**Chapter 19 – Uncomfortable Words**

It had been somewhere around about the time that John had pressed his thumb to the official Political Marriage contract that what he had just done had hit him.

The contract had looked horribly long as Torren had scrolled through it to show where he was to add his signature in the form of his thumb print. Throughout the contract, with paragraphs in Athosian and then in English, his name had stood out in bold, as had Teyla's. Except his had read something like:

_John Sheppard, currently holding the military rank of Major, representative of the City of Atlantis and the Planet Earth..._

Not just representing Atlantis, or even the military, but the whole _planet_ Earth.

What the hell had he done?

Without any permission.

He was pretty sure the IOA, the President, or probably the UN should agree on something like this. And he had just gone and done it without asking anyone. Hadn't even mentioned the idea to Woolsey, Colonel Carter, no one. What the hell was Colonel Sumner going to say?

He wondered if Torren might let him just stay in Tjaru for the rest of his life so he wouldn't have to go back and face the music on Atlantis. You probably got fired for this kind of thing...if they could afford to though, considering he was a political figure now.

And married again!

Sure it was a "Political Marriage", but it still had "marriage" in it, and it was to Teyla. Who had steadfastly refused to look at him directly throughout the ceremony or since.

Not that there had been much time to talk to each other, because they had left the Ceremonial Room to applause, which had felt horribly ironic sounding to John's ears, and they had been herded into the Gathering Courtyard for the post-surprise wedding uncomfortable party.

He and Teyla had been bookended by Woolsey and Torren since they had stepped into the courtyard, and from that point on it seemed that every single guest had approached them to be introduced, to make some awkward small talk, and basically try to ingratiate themselves to Teyla and Atlantis.

It seemed to John had there were thousands of people here, and he kind of fell into a autopilot mode, smiling and shaking hands, which suddenly all the guests seemed to know was the Earth custom. He couldn't keep up with all the people's names, the planets or organisations they were from, and even businesses people seemed to represent. However, Woolsey appeared to be keeping notes, so John just stuck with the figurehead role to just smile and make nice. Woolsey and Torren were clearly running the show, while John and Teyla stood between them doing the most minimal of talking and simply smiling, well not so much of the smiling from Teyla. But, then she was in full Elite mode.

He glanced at her beside him now, her chin up, looking separate and uncaring at the tiny details of these mere mortals around her. At least that was probably what everyone else saw, John knew different. She was pissed.

At him.

Which was crazy because from how he saw it, he had just saved her ass from marrying a stuck up dangerous Genii General. John glanced aside at the mass of humanity filling the courtyard. He couldn't see the Genii. He wondered if Maloo might try to kill him right here, go all Terminator on John's ass and claim the default husband position.

Another representative stepped forward, drawing his attention. It felt like this had been going on for hours. The Alliance man bowed to Teyla first, which was the standard routine. Teyla responded with the faintest of smiles, and then, as always, the individual looked to Torren. Torren then introduced John and Woolsey, and hands were shaken and Woolsey usually made some small talk and John answered any questions directed at him. The current representative, who was probably the thousandth by John's reckoning, smiled and bowed again to Teyla and pulled away.

And the next one stepped forward. Surely they were going to run out of people soon. John was feeling a little warm in his Blues and the air had been getting increasingly humid. He kind of wished it would rain, because then at least they could go inside and change it up a bit.

John nodded to the new woman, shook her hand and answered a common question again; yes, they really did live in the Ancestral City and yes they really were from another galaxy. Woolsey made some small talk again, which John pretended to listen to. Beside Woolsey, Lieutenant Cadman stood tall and smart, her eyes watchful and careful. Both she and Ford had stepped things up a notch, no relaxed jokes anymore. He guessed he had just become a significant political figure and someone everyone was looking at. He knew that was never comfortable or easy for anyone on guard duty – he'd done it enough to know. It felt odd to be the one people were watching over though.

The latest guest nodded and bowed again and stepped away.

The next person stepped forward, but this was a face John was relieved to see. Sitayi had wrapped a large brightly coloured wrap around her shoulders and she approached them with a large smile. She was like a drink of water after a long dry workout. He let the overly polite political smile drop from his face.

"Ambassador Sitayi," Torren said first, far more warmly than to all the others, "You of course know Major Sheppard and Mr Woolsey."

"I do indeed. I thought I would hold back till last to approach you, so I might have more time with you." Sitayi replied as she stopped in front of them, closer than the other representatives had stood. She was last in the queue – thank heavens!

"Honoured Elite," Sitayi bowed deeply to Teyla. "A very wise and forward thinking decision you have made this day."

John glanced at Teyla stood at his side, though carefully not touching him in any way. Teyla bowed to Sitayi, a proper bow, not just the faint dip of her head she had done for the others. Even John understood that was a big deal from an Elite.

"Ambassador," she smiled to Sitayi. "I am very grateful that you came today, considering that you have been unwell. I hope that you are warm enough out here?"

"I am fine, thank you, Honoured Elite," Sitayi replied with a smile across her aged purple face. "I would not miss today for anything."

John sensed Teyla and Torren reacting slightly to that statement, but he wasn't sure why. There was clearly some subtext going on that he didn't get.

Sitayi turned towards John and bowed again, which seemed a bit too formal for him. "I hope this new alliance brings great prosperity to Atlantis and all worlds. I do hope that our own trading with Atlantis will only deepen," she glanced to Woolsey.

"We would welcome that, Ambassador," Woolsey replied as he bowed. John wasn't sure why. "Perhaps one day you could even visit Atlantis yourself."

Sitayi grinned. "I would very much enjoy that, and I know that Leader Torren has always dreamed of walking the Ancestral hallways of the fabled city."

"Then perhaps a joint visit could be arranged," Woolsey replied eagerly. "I shall discuss it with my superiors back home."

"We would welcome that, now that we are contracted allies," Torren replied. "And of course, I hope that some of your superiors might visit Athos in return."

"I shall definitely see what I can arrange," Woolsey replied. Yeah, sure, because that was what the IOA would want – a day trip to Athos.

What the hell the IOA was going to say about this?

"I understand that there is a great battle ahead for you, Honoured Elite," Sitayi turned to Teyla. "I wish you a great and swift victory that will bring a decisive end."

There had been something a little odd about how she had worded that, like she really wanted it over as soon as possible.

"I shall try to ensure that it does," Teyla replied. John glanced at her again, wondering if there was more subtext he was missing here. "I will have to leave very soon to the battle as it is. I have much to organise."

"Of course, once final matters are concluded here," Torren added, which was the first time John had heard anything much a polite and cheerful tone from the Athosian leader.

"Matters have been concluded," Teyla replied.

John glanced away, noting that no one else appeared to be close enough to have overheard her tone. He hadn't heard her argue with her Dad before, but being very well versed on what a brewing child/father argument sounded like, John knew one was on the way. He wondered why. Probably because she had been made to stand here to deal with all the boring talking with people instead of cutting heads of Wraith.

She'd gotten her Political Marriage and now she wanted to run off to do more 'important' things in her mind. And important to an Elite meant throwing herself into something dangerous.

He shoved down the immediate habitual concern he felt at thinking about her in danger. She knew what she was doing, and if he hadn't gotten used to it by now, he was certainly going to have to now.

And probably hearing some Emmagan family spats too it seemed. He looked to Sitayi, and saw her own glance between Torren and Teyla that told him she knew what was brewing as well.

"Well, this old lady needs to go sit down," Sitayi said with a smile, and the tone of someone who was playing the grown up in the situation.

"Thank you for attending, Ambassador," Torren said as he bowed. "We particularly appreciate it given your recent ill health."

"Perhaps we can talk later or tomorrow morning," Sitayi asked him.

"Anytime," Torren replied with that smooth politician smile he had, but John thought he saw some strain around it now.

"Mr Woolsey, John," Sitayi added, drawing his attention fully to her. "I look forward to speaking with you again soon, and congratulations on a most fortuitously day."

She bowed and they all bowed back without thinking.

She moved away and revealed that there really wasn't anyone else waiting to talk to them. In fact, John noticed that the courtyard was barely full now. Those present seemed in deep conversation, and no one had any food on their plates any more. He glanced at his watch. Three hours! They had been stood here meeting people for three hours! No wonder Teyla was angsty, she probably didn't stay on one planet that long usually, let alone in one spot.

John wondered if this meant he could go home now, or whether he would be expected to hang around all evening. He wasn't sure he could take much more of the tense grumpy silence from Teyla. Plus, he really was starting to get nervous about what was going to happen to him once they got back to Atlantis and the news hit the fan.

Movement towards him made John's heart sink that someone else was headed over to 'chat', but he looked round to see that it was Halling and Si. The two Elite warriors had stood to one side of the yard for these last hours, keeping a clear watch over everyone.

Teyla moved from her spot instantly, moving towards the Elite with very clear relief. John instinctively moved with her. He noticed with relief that Si didn't have a drink in his hand. Self consciously John touched the patch of dried juice on the front of his uniform. He hadn't realised he'd essentially shoved the drink at the big Elite warrior earlier, but Si had gotten his own back and reminded John that you didn't do that kind of thing to Elite.

Elite who were Atlantis' allies now. John moved forward a little further to insert himself next to Teyla as the Elite gathered. Woolsey slid up onto Teyla's other side and John saw her faintly frown at the new company at her sides. Torren ghosted into the huddle as well.

"Honoured Elite," Torren spoke first. "You of course know Major Sheppard, and I believe you have met Mr Woolsey before."

Both the Elite warriors nodded respectfully to Woolsey.

"Honoured Elite," Woolsey replied gravely and bowed. He was getting into this bowing thing a little too much in John's opinion. "We are deeply grateful that the Elite would accept our offer."

John almost frowned at that. Firstly, it was Teyla would have made the decision, not the Elite, and it had been _his_ offer, not Woolsey's.

"I am sure that together," Halling replied, "we can considerably increase our chances of defeating the Wraith."

"That is all our hopes," Woolsey replied. Sure, because the guy had never even met a Wraith.

"Is the Sythus ready to depart?" Teyla interjected.

"Yes," Halling replied, and John thought he saw a touch of surprise at her question. John glanced at Si, to see that he was glancing over Cadman with more animated interest. A faint protective feeling shifted up John's back.

"We understand that you have a significant battle to attend," Woolsey put in. "If you require any assistance from Atlantis, please do contact us."

Both Halling and Si exchanged a small look. "We shall pass on the offer, but we do have significant forces in place, thank you," Halling replied more politely than probably another Elite might have done.

"Such details still need to be discussed and clarified for the additional statements to the Political Marriage contract," Torren put in.

Woolsey nodded. "Of course, I am sure we can sit and discuss such matters immediately or tomorrow."

"Such details will have to be discussed with the Training Facility," Teyla replied tersely. "We have to depart shortly for our mission."

She wanted out as quickly as possible, which really annoyed John and he opened his mouth without thinking. Again

"And if you don't come back from this big battle?" he asked her.

She looked round at him with a frown, and it was the first time she had looked at him directly in literally hours. "The contract has been signed and it will be honoured, you do not need to concern yourself with such details."

He worked to keep a polite smile in place. "I think I should, considering these details are about me and my people."

"Any Elite can converse with you about such tiny details, the Elite will honour the contract if I were not to return."

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss some of these details right away," Torren added. "We can settle in a side room off the courtyard and finalise some of the finer details of the contract before you depart, Honoured Elite." John sensed the annoyed parent tone again.

"There certainly is time enough," Halling said to Teyla, which probably pissed her off more. "The plan is to depart this evening. Si and I will head up to the ship now, and leave the second transport for you in the usual place."

"We should not hesitate to depart," Teyla told them. "I shall follow you shortly enough."

That really ground at John. She was being just plain rude now.

"We would not wish you to delay your mission, Honoured Elite," Woolsey told her though, all the perfect submissive politician. "If you are happy for another Elite representative to speak with us while you are away on this important mission, that is fine. Major Sheppard and myself can return to Athos at any time to do so."

"Certain points should be clarified today however," Torren added.

"I trust you both to see to such details," Teyla stated to them both. "I have to gather my things and depart."

She was running away as quickly as she could.

"We shall see you on the ship," Si intoned deeply, his first words in hours. John felt the big Elite's attention on him and he pulled his resentful eyes from Teyla to meet the man's gaze. "Major Sheppard," Si said and nodded.

"Honoured Elite," John replied nodding back immediately and then to Halling too.

"I trust we shall see you soon," Si added and turned away. The two Elite slid away, anyone in their way moving aside quickly. John noticed a few curious eyes move away from him. He guessed he had gained some serious points to be hanging with Elite and especially to have them talk and nod at him. In the Alliance world that was high honours.

"Some details do need to be discussed," Torren was saying to Teyla in that insistent yet polite tone again.

"I trust you to negotiate as you see fit," Teyla replied to him and looked to Woolsey. "Mr Woolsey, I shall see you again soon, I am sure."

She was making her escape. Fine, whatever.

"Honoured Elite," Woolsey replied and bowed again.

Teyla inclined her head and then did the same to both Ford and Cadman.

Then she turned and walked away...without a word to John.

Was he supposed to follow her, or was that a snub?

He followed her, brushing past Torren, who looked cross as Teyla marched away across the yard. She was already disappearing through an open doorway, but John followed quickly.

There were more people than he had expected inside, all sat and stood around with that business party atmosphere. Everyone looked round as Teyla moved through the room. Suddenly on show himself, John made sure to slow his pace, smile and look casual.

Just a new husband, following his wife...his Elite wife with swords on her back who was striding away from him and showing absolutely no interest in anything around her.

He couldn't keep up with her and not look like he was chasing her down. Instead, he smiled, nodded and waved politely to those who recognised him as he slipped through the political party as if nothing significant was happening.

Nothing was, except that he was going to make damn sure that Teyla wasn't going to head off to some backwater deadly battle without saying something else to him. Like maybe "thank you".

Besides, he had a few things to say to her.

He kept in the words though as he followed her through the occupied rooms, and finally out into a corridor and down its long length. Guards were stationed at most of the closed doorways down the corridor, but none of them blinked at John following Teyla. Torren had insisted a few times that John had full access to the complex following his helping to save Torren and Zabetha's life, but John hadn't really thought about it before since he had always been with others or Teyla when moving around the place. However, now he was a proper political ally and technically Teyla's husband, so no guard would stop him. Except maybe if Teyla asked them to.

John glanced back the way they had come. No one else was around, but this clearly wasn't the place for this 'discussion' that he wanted with her, but he'd be damned if they went back to her quarters. He wasn't going in there again after what had happened the last time. So, as they turned into a corridor that seemed devoid of any guards, he decided here would do.

"Hey," he called to her, increasing his speed to catch up the last metre to her and he caught at her arm.

She swung round and their procession through the complex abruptly stopped.

"Do not touch me," she ordered angrily.

Okay, that was more aggressive than he had expected. "The least you can do is talk to me before you head off to wherever," he countered.

"I do not have to explain anything that I do to you," she responded.

That cut. "Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a use 'em and lose 'em type," he threw back, feeling slighted.

She understood his meaning despite the Earth phrase though. She shifted her stance to face him directly. "I told you that there is nothing personal between us anymore. This was a contract between our peoples," she stated, pointing with one angry golden finger. "I have work to do and cannot tarry here for polite talks and drinks. I have Wraith to deal with." She turned away.

"You're not even going to say thank you after I just saved your ass," he asked angrily as she moved away.

She stopped and looked back around at him.

"You did not _save me_, John," she argued. "I made my decision based on-"

"A simple political decision, I get it," he interrupted. "That's the only reason I did what I did."

"Yet, you seem to think you have graciously saved me from some terrible event," she said sarcastically. "Was it a political decision or one to save me? Make up your mind."

"I did it to save Atlantis," he told her decisively. Didn't he?

"And save it you did. A good political decision and it is made. We have both gained what we want from this, and we need to move on."

She was just going to brush him aside, like this all didn't mean anything. Which was how she had behaved back in the courtyard. He was her husband now for damn sake.

"I'm not having trouble moving on, Teyla," he retaliated. "What I've got a problem with is you treating me like nothing in front of Halling and Si, and then leaving without the sit down chat your Dad wants."

"Those details can be organised later or by someone else, they do not require my presence," she replied. Yeah, because he wasn't worthy of her attention anymore. Now it was all over.

She took a deep exaggerated breath. "This is precisely why I have to leave. You are too emotional over this-"

"_I'm_ emotional?" He interrupted. "You're the one storming off and shouting."

"I am _not _shouting," she replied sternly. "Elite do not shout."

"That's a real lie, Teyla," he told her straight. "Don't go using that Elite line on me."

"You will refer to me as _Honoured_ _Elite_ from now on," she replied.

"Not "Wife"?" He countered, and to hear it out loud kind of made him feel a sweat coming on. What had he done?

She closed her eyes and took another one of those annoying deep breaths, like she was having to control her patience with a child.

"You're pissed because you needed my help to get you out of marrying that straight-laced Genii, and now you're pissed because you're pleased I did."

Her eyes opened again. "I told you why I was doing this, it was a political deci-"

"Simple political decision," he mimicked.

"DO NOT interrupt me," she shouted. "Will you just get out of my life!"

The words echoed loudly in the narrow corridor, right down John's ear canals and around his brain.

He had never seen her lose it like that before, and what she had said...

A sharp painful silence reigned after her shout, and John realised he could hear someone stood further back down the corridor behind him.

Teyla's wide, shocked eyes moved off him to whoever it was and then away.

John looked away as well, feeling angry, upset, and a rising feeling of painful rejection and disappointment.

How had they needed up like this? How had it all gone wrong so quickly?

She didn't want him in her life.

It was a sharp stabbing pain right through his heart.

"Fine," he replied, drawing together his control. "You don't want anything to do with me outside the basics of that marriage contract, then fine. You get your wish." He told her and turned away, striding away from her.

It was Torren at the end of the corridor. His brow was furrowed and his arms lightly crossed.

Embarrassment rose to join the party of all the other crazy emotions in John's head as he passed by the Athosian leader. He should probably say something political to smooth over the fact that he had just had a blazing spat with Torren's daughter, an Elite warrior. But, right now John was too angry, too upset and embarrassed. If Torren hadn't known there had been something between him and Teyla, he did now.

Great, John wondered how many more people he could piss off today.

This was definitely one of the worst days of his life, and he hadn't even gotten back to Atlantis to face the music yet.

00000

Some time had passed since she had returned to her quarters.

She had expected Father to follow her up here after her argument with John, but she had been left alone.

No one had come to see her, not Zabetha or Charin. No one.

They were probably still sitting talking with their guests. Her guests.

She felt deeply embarrassed and ashamed at her behaviour with John. That Father had witnessed it only made it worse.

She had lost control again.

The sooner she retired up to the Sythus the better. Yet, her preparations to depart had stalled and she had found herself sitting on the side of her bed in silence as the sunlight outside began to fade.

Ketra, still appearing distressed herself, was laid at her feet, the dragon's warm chin resting on top of one of her feet.

Father had looked so disapproving. She had not seen that look for a long time, not since when she was a small child.

She glanced over the items she had set out across her bed for packing. Electronic pads, weapons, clothing, and a few personal items. But, her mind was still back in that corridor.

How had matters gone so badly with John?

Why could he not have just left her be?

Had she made a mistake agreeing to this marriage? He had been the better choice, the contract with Atlantis the best she could desire, but now they were tied together. And clearly he still had the ability to drive her from her centre so easily.

Life was simpler up on the Sythus. Elite fought Wraith and nothing else was as important. She craved that simplicity desperately now, but seemed to oddly lack the motivation to actually pack her things and depart. She glanced at the time displayed by her bed. There was still plenty of time until the Sythus was scheduled to leave orbit.

She reached out and began to set her folded clothes into her bag, the work as empty as she felt inside. A powerful sadness threatened to swallow her whole.

She felt as if she had lost something powerful and meaningful.

She had wanted her distance from John and her outburst had perhaps achieved far more than she had hoped. John had looked as shocked as she had been at her words, and she had not missed the look of hurt in his expression before he hid it away.

She had hurt him and she regretted it...but she needed her space from him. The argument had proven yet again that he was not helpful to her. He had an ability to throw her from her centre with barely any words.

It was good that the distance had been widened, but she felt no pleasure in it. No joy or sense of satisfaction in today's achievements.

She felt deeply sad and lonely.

The contract had been the right one, but had she perhaps set her and John on a path of greater difficulty and sadness now. Would her actions drive him further away, away perhaps into another woman's arms in Atlantis. Perhaps he would one day wish to have a proper marriage in his Earth tradition and she was going to have to witness it. It was best for her focus and Elite life that she not be with John, but she had perhaps placed herself in a far worse place of constant angst and cold distance with him now.

They were not suited. It was clear. He pushed her so quickly to anger and it appeared that she had brought out his worst qualities in return.

He had been cruel, sarcastic, and angry with her in turn.

Would that be their future interaction, or perhaps cold studied indifference?

How as that any better than having sat at meals with Maloo on the Genii home world?

With a heavy sigh she pushed the last of her things into her bag. She was missing her boots and her spare coat and then she would be ready to leave.

However, the chimes to her quarters rang out in the next room. She paused in her work, worried abruptly that it might be John back to continue their disagreement. Or worse, perhaps to reconcile.

Ketra rose up and padded across the room towards the entrance to her bedroom.

"Come in," Teyla called half-heartedly, knowing the sound would carry through to the next room. She rose up from her bed and set about pressing down the contents of her bag ready for the last items.

She heard movement at her bedroom door a few moments later and she looked round to see Father enter, Ketra behind his knees. "Teyla," he greeted her.

She wished it had been Charin or Zabetha.

"I apologise for my behaviour," she told him quickly, her attention on rearranging some tops in the bag. Foolishly she felt unwilling to meet his eyes. "It will not happen again."

"I trust it will not with so many distinguished guests in the complex," he replied, clearly still disappointed in her. It was the child in her that reacted to hearing it. Despite her Elite training, she knew that she desperately enjoyed her father's approval, but she refused to let it rule her behaviour now. She was not only an Elite, she was a grown woman in control of her own life now.

"No one was around in that area," she pointed out logically as she compressed everything down again in the bag.

"I was," he replied as he moved round the other side of her bed so that he stood directly opposite her. "You did not notice me."

That was true enough. How long had he been there overhearing her and John's argument? He must have followed her and John, perhaps had heard all that was said. She was not sure how long the disagreement had lasted, for it seemed somehow both horrifically fast and painfully drawn out in her memory.

"I apologise, it will not happen again," she repeated as she turned away from him and opened up a wardrobe door. "I am sorry that I did not select the Genii, I know that you had worked hard on the negotiations."

"The choice was good," he replied. "A contract with Atlantis and Earth is far better in many respects."

She looked at him as she set one pair of boots on the bed. "I am glad you agree with my decision."

"It was your decision," he replied. "I altered the contract as quickly as I could, and Mr Woolsey and I have agreed to meet tomorrow to "iron out", as he put it, the finer details. I am not sure why one would wish to remove "iron" from something in this regard."

"I believe it refers to the pressing out of creases using a heavy heated piece of iron," she informed him, John having used the phrase a few times in the past.

"Oh," Father nodded. "That makes much more sense. A good saying. I shall try to use it, tell people it is an Earth saying."

"Good," she replied as she squeezed the boots into her bag, aware that he was trying to relax her with small talk. She wished she did not appear so obviously upset. Yet again it proved to her what she was like where John was concerned.

"Most of the guests have departed, including our new allies of Atlantis. Mr Woolsey and John needed to return on the last hour to report to their superiors."

Teyla nodded. She was foolishly grateful that she would not walk into John on her own departure from Tjaru.

Yet, again though she and John had parted with harsh words. She had spoken too truthfully to him, too honest and harmed his feelings. And hers in turn.

She squashed down the emotions as she turned back to her wardrobe. "I trust in any decisions you make tomorrow with them," she told Father. "However, the Elite aspects will need to be confirmed either with someone at the Training Facility, perhaps Massa, or through Jobrill who is on rotation with the Military Council."

"You will have to be part of the decisions, even if the finer Elite elements wait until your return from your mission," Father replied.

"If you feel it is necessary," she replied without looking up as she searched through her shoes looking for a favoured pair of spare boots. "I do not know when I shall be returning from-"

"Which is an issue that we must discuss before you leave this evening," he interrupted her. "Major Sheppard should go with you."

She stopped her boot hunting and turned to look at him. "I thought you said he had left."

"He has," Father replied, "and judging by your parting comments to one another, he was as keen to leave the planet as you are."

"I have to return to my work," she insisted.

"Which is the issue at hand. If you were to...fall...in your mission, the details of the contract would not be settled correctly by law," Father replied.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You did not mention this when I was likely to marry Maloo," she stated, feeling like she was about to be forced into something again.

"Because that contract was discussed in great detail for many days beforehand. We did not have that much time for the new contract."

"What is there to discuss that cannot wait and would challenge the authenticity of the contract?" She challenged.

"That you left immediately. If you fall, then you and John have not spent any time together. Questions could arise as to whether the marriage holds by law without you actually having lived as a married couple."

"That is foolish," she argued. "Everyone knows that such pedantic details of a political marriage are just that. The quarters with a shared door, time in each other's presences, it is just dressing from the old days of actual arranged marriages."

"That may be, but they are still binding in law, and there are details that need discussing now. Usually what happens after the wedding is that the groom stays with the bride for their first rotation of shared time. You know this, and saw it with Rhakshar and Zabetha."

She sighed and shook her head with tired frustration. "If I did not know better, I would think you just want me to spend time with John. Trust me, we do not wish to be around each other, now or in the future."

"This is a political matter, Teyla," Father replied, that steel in his voice again. "That is _why_ you decided on this marriage, is it not? To help the Alliance, to help our people. How is ruining the contract as soon as it is made going to do any of that?"

She lowered her eyes, rebuked. Father was one of the few people in the universe who could do that.

"To solidify this contract, you either remain here for the first rotation of days," Father stated.

"I will not, I am needed in the battle," Teyla interrupted, insistently. She could not remain here the way things were, and she was needed in this approaching battle.

"Will one Elite warrior truly make the difference in a massive space battle?" Father asked almost hotly. "If this marriage contract is as vital as you had wished, then why walk away from it? Is it because it is not going the way you wish?"

She met her father's eyes directly, shocked at his forceful logic.

"You spoke disrespectfully to John in that corridor, Daughter. I hope you are not normally so dishonourable when away."

Harshly rebuked this time, she had to stop herself from recoiling. He had not spoken to her like that since she had been a young child, before her days training with the Elite. It hurt her, shamed her, and dug deep into already raw and tender feelings.

She turned away from him, feeling the urge to cry almost overwhelm her.

Why would this day just not end?

"I apologised for that behaviour," she replied, hearing the tightness of her throat. "This contract is important, but so is my place with the Elite, completing my work. The battle in question has been ongoing too long. A decisive moment is approaching and all are needed, it will not just be a space battle."

Father shifted slightly on the other side of the bed and she realised he had sat down on the far side. She could not remember him having done that since again she had been small.

"One warrior might not save a battle, it is equally true in my experience that one warrior _can_ turn the tide of the most massive of battles," she explained. "I have seen that proven to me more times than I could recount to you." She picked up the spare boots from her wardrobe and studied them with unnecessary focus. "And equally, the absence of one can result in others dying."

Which was why she needed distance from John.

Yet, instead she had married him and shouted at him in a public corridor.

What was wrong with her?

"Then you need to take him with you," Father replied, his voice soft once more. She sensed that he knew his words had great power with her, and that his rebuke was not done unjustly or was easily ignored by her.

The confusion of the day settled over her like a tired suffocating blanket that sapped his strength and resolve, leaving only raw sensitive nerves. "I do not want to," she said softly, honestly.

"I understand," he replied gently, "but it is what you must do. I did warn you that in taking this political step you will have to do things you do not wish to. I reminded you of that several times."

He had as well, repeatedly, but she had simply nodded and brushed the knowledge aside. She fought Wraith, what could be worse than that?

Yet, it seemed that fighting Wraith really was far simpler than all this emotional complexity and political dealing. Wraith were cruel and destructive, and thus there was only one way to deal with them. The details of how might vary, but it was a clear and concise aim. Dealing with John and even tiptoeing into the political arena was far more complicated and filled with disastrous potential.

"You wished to select a husband who was of another world's military," Father continued softly, "so that they could join you in hazardous situations. I did question the logic of that as well."

Yes, he had, but she felt sure in that detail at least. "I could not spend so many days a year away from my work. I will not alter my life so much. I am an Elite. He had to fit in with that."

"And John will. He has already served on the Sythus with you, has he not?"

It was true enough. She realised that Father had been referring to John by his first name only. Just as he had done with her during her and John's discussion over the offering. It told her a great deal about his understanding of her relationship, former relationship, with John.

"I made that point clear to Mr Woolsey while you were aside discussing the offering," Father continued. "He seemed to think that it would be agreed by his people, but unlikely that John would be allowed away from his people by himself. It is one of the matters to be discussed in more detail."

Would Atlantis really allow their own to walk into a battle between the Alliance and the Wraith so regularly?

It was done now though, the contract was signed.

She should have listened to Father more closely before today, should have thought the matter through more thoroughly. She had rushed into it, to get it arranged before she left on this mission. To gain as much distance between her and John as quickly as possible, but look what had happened.

Not only had she accepted John's offer of marriage, but she had lost her temper with him again. Normally no one would speak to an Elite in such a way, to chase her down a corridor and confront her so directly. Maloo certainly would not have done so.

No, he would have drunk up all the attention and deals he could in the Gathering Courtyard.

It would have been easier on her to have been able to leave Maloo to do so, to escape as quickly as she could. Instead she had stood for hours alongside John as everyone approached to speak with them. All through those polite exchanges, it had become even more apparent that this marriage had significant positive consequences for John and his people.

The tiredness seemed to consume her again and the confusion swamped her, making her feel quite lost.

She moved back to the side of her bed and sat down on its edge, across from Father. She set her spare boots into her bag and tried to remember when her life had last been simple.

"You were right," she admitted. "You warned me of these issues, but I did not think it would be this way. I had expected Maloo..." She sighed and looked up at the wall overlooking the head of her bed. The sunlight covered only the highest part of the wall, the day drawing to a close faster than she had realised.

"You selected John and Atlantis," Father said. "The decision is made, and it was a wise one, in my opinion. It will move us forward, into the future, and hopefully help in ways that we cannot yet even predict. Sitayi seemed to think as much."

Yes, Sitayi. The Seer had said little, but Father clearly had interpreted as she had, that the marriage was something significant that Sitayi had seen coming long before now. That knowledge lifted a slight weight from Teyla's shoulders. She believed that she made her own destiny, but if she was always going to have made this choice, then perhaps she could accept it a little easier.

"The choice was good, the opportunities for trade and cooperation are greater than we can imagine," Father added. "It was a good decision, and you have done as you had planned; to leave a legacy with this act. A legacy that now extends to the City of the Ancestors. As so long ago, Athos retains a connection to the Ancestors, even in this new fascinating way."

Teyla smiled faintly at that. Father believed in his form of destiny, and in this it seemed strangely accurate. After all, didn't John even carry the Ancestral gene? And a very strong one at that.

"Your plan has worked and you should be pleased," Father said softly, the question subtle but obvious in his tone.

She breathed softly for a moment, the urge to speak freely mixing with the urge to weep. "I had hoped to distance myself from John, not forge stronger ties with him," she confessed.

"Situations change with time. Let it evolve as it will, Daughter."

"I wish it would not," she admitted, desperately grateful to be openly speaking of this confusing difficult situation. "You saw how interactions with him can make me behave – unlike myself, unfocused, and quick to lose my temper." It felt good to speak of these things with him.

"Love does that."

She lifted her eyes quickly to him. He was smiling a smile that seemed quite bittersweet, and there was no surprise to the smile either. He had not needed her confirmation, he had known. But, then, he was her father.

"It would be best that it not," she replied. "That he and I find a way to work together as only colleagues in this contract."

"You will find a way," Father told her wisely.

"I suspect it will be difficult," she considered simply.

"All things that matter are," he replied. "Whether you wish to embrace him as a proper husband or as the colleague you wish him to be, you are now bound in a contract. As such you have to follow the laws and traditions of that contract. Otherwise, what is the point of it?"

She nodded in agreement and surrender. "I will speak with the others once I return to the Sythus. To see how they feel about John and others of his people joining us." It was hardly difficult really. They might have opinions on how many could accompany John, but she already knew they would not object to John's presence. They already expected a husband to join her on the ship occasionally, so why not now. Most had worked with John before, though she suspected that Seifer might complain that another "stray" would be added to the crew of this mission.

Truly it seemed that a great deal was changing, even on the Sythus.

She supposed she should stop fighting it and do as Father advised. To find a way forward. She just had to ensure that what happened with Kari did not happen again.

"It is important that I remain focused as an Elite. In the face of overwhelming odds, it is vital," she told Father.

"Is it not also important to remain human?" He asked in return. "If the Elite do not fight for the emotional freedoms as much as the physical ones, what is the point?"

She frowned at the question.

He rose up from his seat on the far side of her bed and moved around it to leave.

"Through you I have had the privilege to meet Elite over many years," he told her as he kept moving around the foot of the bed. "I see the truth of them that most would not have the chance to see. Elite love their fellow Elite as much as any family member loves another." He approached her on her side of the bed, but she remained seated, looking up at her wise and noble Father. "Why else would you grieve so greatly for what you feel is your part in Honoured Elite Kari' passing to the Ancestors?"

He stopped in front of her and leant down. She dropped her head slightly, expecting the traditional press of foreheads, but instead he pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead, his warm hand stroking over her hair, as he had last done when she had been a young girl.

Tears swam across her eyes and she squeezed them closed tightly, letting the tears of love drop down her cheeks.

"I am very proud of you my daughter," he whispered, his hand still on her hair. "For the Elite that you are, your choice today, and for anything you choose to do in the years to come."

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TBC


	20. Facing the Music

**Note:** Where did the last week go?! Thank you again for the reviews of the last chapter, I remain somewhat stunned at the kind words, but more than happy to receive them. And a call out to Camy - Hun, I'll email tomorrow - love ya.

However, now it's time for John to face the music...

00000

**Chapter 20 – Facing the Music**

A lone chair waited for John in the centre of Carter's office as he pushed open the office's glass door. As soon as he was in, Carter gestured to the chair with a clear poker face.

John headed for the indicated "naughty chair".

As soon as they had gotten back from Athos, Woolsey had disappeared into the office with the Colonels. John hadn't been able to see much of the reactions inside, since he'd been stood aside out of the way in the Control Room. Ford and Cadman had hung round with him, being supportive John guessed. He appreciated the gesture, but Ford had thought it funny to keep recounting the way Woolsey had reacted when John had made his spontaneous offering back in Tjaru. Apparently the politician had yelped like someone had electrocuted him and almost spilt his drink over Ambassador Sitayi. Ford and Cadman had apparently joined Woolsey during his hurried polite dash down the length of the long wedding room, but hadn't made it to the front until John had been inside the side room with Teyla. Woolsey hadn't been happy.

John glanced at the politician now where he was sat to one side in one of Carter's plush blue chairs. His suit looked as well pressed as it had at the start of the day. John's Blues felt constrictive, crinkly, and overly hot. He really wanted to at least take his jacket off, but right now he felt that looking as professional as possible would be the best image for him.

Sumner entered the office after John, having been the one to call him into the meeting. Well, not so much call as do that come hither jerk with his chin. John watched as the glass door shut behind his superior officer. Ford and Cadman were heading out of the Control Room, probably chased away by Sumner. John saw Ford's supportive last look over his shoulder.

It was hardly the first time John had faced a dressing down, in fact it had happened a hell of a lot really. He should really be used to this.

As he settled into his naughty chair, he focused all his attention on Colonel Carter, watching her carefully and trying to work out how this was going to go down. Of all the superior officers he had worked for and followed over the years, John respected her the most, and the feeling that he might have left her down made him squirm inside.

Except he really did believe in the decision he had made back on Athos, but he guessed that from Carter's point of view, he had probably just gotten her in a whole pile of crap with the IOA.

Carter rose up from her chair and moved around her desk. Okay, she was going for the more informal approach. That was probably a good sign, right?

Having reached his side of her desk she leant back against it and her strong blue eyes focused on him.

"What happened, John?" She asked. It wasn't quite the start he had expected, but she wasn't shouting so that had to be good.

However, the sense of guilt that had been growing since he had left the Tjaru Governing Complex now dramatically intensified in his gut. Working not to wince under her open yet stern expression he set his elbows on the naughty chair's arms, interlinked his fingers over his middle and worked not to fidget under the three sets of eyes.

"I saw an opportunity," he offered as a simple summary, which seemed ridiculously weak right now.

"An opportunity?" Carter repeated back to him. He could see she was pissed now. The guilt doubled.

"The Genii were the only ones making an offer to the Elite," he was a little pleased with himself for that, making it sound like it was just about the Elite.

"Which we knew was going to happen," Carter countered, thereby slamming that argument down nice and quick; which really wasn't helpful because John didn't have all that much more left as an explanation.

He dropped the well behaved school kid routine. "If the Genii had an alliance with the Elite then we would be screwed."

Woolsey sighed heavily to the right. "So you decided the way to solve the problem was to upset the Genii even more?"

John felt his cheek tweak slightly as he glanced at the politician. "They're not going to do anything against us now, not now the Elite are on our side."

"So you decided to make that decision on behalf of the entire city," Carter added, drawing John's attention back to her. "You've put us into a binding contract with these people, John. Have you even read the marriage contract?" She asked as she picked up the electronic pad Torren had given to Woolsey. She was not happy as she waved it vaguely.

"Bits of it," John had to admit, feeling a complete idiot.

"It promises that we'll provide military support to Athos and the Elite," Carter informed him. "As well as emergency aid _and_ safe haven for any of their citizens if the Wraith should attack."

He hadn't known that bit.

She lowered the pad. "You've signed us into a contract completely on their terms and that could very well require us to commit resources and lives in the future."

John wanted to cringe, to beg forgiveness, but damn it, he had done this for good reasons. "It does go both ways," he pointed out. "We could need their help."

"I'm sure the IOA will factor that into their budgetary meetings when we have thousands of displaced Athosians at our door," she retaliated.

"That's not going to happen," John insisted. Athos was well inside the Alliance safe space.

"And how do you know that, John?" She asked. "Because your own reports on the Alliance have made it very clear that they're not all singing from the same hymn sheet. What if the tensions between the High Council and the Military Council deteriorate? We're going to be pulled into that political fracas, and maybe even into a possible civil war. It was important for us to remain _neutral_ in their eyes; that was the whole point of the Non-Aggression Treaty."

"I thought it was about not shooting at each other," John found himself protesting. He'd had a really crappy couple of days and his head was starting to hurt again.

"It was about us not being a threat to them, to any of them."

"We're an ally now," John argued. "That's better."

Carter sighed heavily and drew in a long breath as if she was about to start a whole tirade at him. He needed to get in there first.

"Look, we know that the Genii Government were behind the attack on this city," he insisted, leaning forward towards her. "That Kolya is alive out there, looking to stir up trouble back home and get himself back in power," he insisted.

"We don't have any real evidence of that, John."

"He tried to have me killed," John blurted. "Right here, in the city, with the Alliance's most powerful representatives in the house."

"So this is about revenge?" She challenged. "They tried to hurt you so you're trying to hurt them back?"

He paused for a second. "No," he insisted. Or was she right? They had tried to take his city, had killed some his people, had let Kolya get away unpunished, and now they wanted to take Teyla? Hell no, he wasn't going to stand for that.

He was almost certain that wasn't how you were supposed to make political decisions.

Or, had he been so angry about Teyla picking a Genii over staying with him that he had acted only out of anger?

No, he had made this choice because it was best for Atlantis. As well as for Teyla.

It was getting difficult to separate out all his reasons now. It didn't matter though, because they all led to the same conclusion. He had done the best thing, even if Teyla apparently didn't want him in her life anymore. He worked to ignore that particular new packet of hurt, and focused on the fact that he had done a good thing. The reasons why might be a bit muddled and the IOA might grumble about it, but it was the best outcome for everyone, ultimately.

"It was the only thing to do," he insisted with renewed confidence. "We couldn't let the Genii have that much power over us, you agreed with that."

"I agreed with you going there to _talk_ with the Genii, make peace, compromise," Carter argued back, but she seemed more tired than angry now.

"We did," he replied quickly. "Woolsey talked with them, talked trade."

Carter glanced at Woolsey.

He had been cleaning his glasses, his face almost as tired looking as Carter's. "General Maloo was obviously less than pleased at the outcome of the ceremonies, but he seemed to welcome the possibility of meeting with us. Mostly, I believe, because Elite Emmagan and Torren suggested it several times."

"And every guest there wanted to talk with us, get to know us," John continued. "This has given us the best chance with the Alliance," he pressed. "We can't just sit back and stay out of their war against the Wraith. It's our war too."

"The problem, John, is that the IOA doesn't see it that way, and neither will the Airforce and Earth Defence back home."

"I thought the point of coming to this galaxy in the first place was to find allies against our enemies, preferably with advanced technology. The Alliance are exactly that," John argued.

"The point," Carter responded sternly, "is that you were not authorised to make this kind of decision for the IOA and the whole of Earth, John."

Okay, she had a point there. "I saw an opportunity. For all of us. And it was then or never."

Carter got up from her seat on the edge of her desk and moved back around it. Was she going for the more formal atmosphere now as she fired him, or did she just want to sit down?

"The IOA's mandate on dealing with the Alliance was to keep back and not get directly involved," she reminded him. "If you saw an opportunity, then you should have discussed it with me and the IOA through me."

"There wasn't time for that," John pointed out accurately, not that he had thought about that at the time.

"That much is true," Woolsey piped up. "The call for other offers was made publically; Elite Emmagan was going to make her choice then and there."

What choice? If John hadn't made his offer, she'd be married to the Genii Terminator by now. No one else had been ready to stand up to the Genii.

Carter sat down in her chair behind her desk. "What do you make of the contract?" She asked Woolsey.

Woolsey supported one side of his forehead with his fingers as he crossed his legs in the high armed plush chair. "It essentially binds Athos, the Elite, and us together in trade, military support, and humanitarian aid. It's a valid argument that we might very well have provided that kind of support if they had needed it anyway, even without this contract. What it does give us is preferential treatment with Athos and the Elite. We have first say on new contracts out of Athos, but likewise, we have to offer trade to Athos first. It does also have some interesting paragraphs about exchange of technologies and medicine, which are certainly worth exploring and _might_ be well worth the contract alone."

John listened with wide eyes. This marriage really could give Atlantis what the expedition had been seeking for so long. He felt a burst of justification.

"As a main player in trade within the Alliance," Woolsey continued, sitting forward slightly, "Athos is a highly beneficial partner to have. We've already gained a lot through them, and coupled with the Non-Aggression Treaty, we might be in a much stronger position with the Alliance and against the Wraith."

John felt another burst of justification and nodded along with Woolsey, while still nervously watching Carter's face for any clues that she might be coming round to the idea and away from the prospect of firing him.

"Almost every guest did come up to meet us," Woolsey added, "mentioned that they had heard we had worked with the Elite before and that they hoped we could assist the Alliance in defeating the Wraith. If we were looking for some good Press in the Alliance, we got it today."

Carter considered that in silence for a minute. John could see her fast intelligent mind working behind her eyes.

"The Elite have expressed an interest in our Retrovirus research," she considered. "Iketani made some significant advancements on the drug with Carson. Maybe the Elite could help improve things further."

Okay this was good; she was seeing the positives now.

"I would say it is one of our major trading tools," Woolsey replied. "Torren implied to me before now that the Elite didn't enter into traditional trade, but now we're direct allies with them that could change.

"And then there's Elite Emmagan's uncle, Elkaska," Woolsey added. "From what I've managed to gather from talking with Torren and others in Tjaru, is that he's something of a specialist in trading across the Alliance. He seems to have a knack at finding common ground between cultures through trade. He and I had a brief discussion only yesterday about my pen."

"Your pen?" Carter asked confused.

Woolsey pulled a simple biro out of his inside jacket pocket. "A lot of worlds in the Alliance don't have anything like this. They're simple to manufacture, and cheap and easy enough for us to trade. According to Elkaska, the majority of large scale manufacturing in the Alliance has been focused mainly on building up and maintaining the Military and its Fleet. The computer based communications and data storage systems that we've seen," he said as he gestured towards the Alliance pad holding the marriage contract that sat on Carter's desk, "are not as widespread as we first thought. The technology was originally developed for the Military, and new technological advancements remain focused primarily on ships, space stations, and weaponry. The more mundane uses of technology that we're used to, such as laptops, cell phones, and mp3 players are just not seen in the Alliance. From what Elkaska has told me, there are a lot of Alliance worlds that are still very much agrarian societies, with the most minimal technology. So, it may be that when it comes to trade, we might have a lot more to offer than we first thought."

John hadn't known any of that, but then Woolsey had spent a hell of a lot of time talking with people during their twice weekly visits to Athos. While John had been focused on spending time with Teyla, Woolsey had actually been gathering intell; Doing his job.

A fresh feeling of shame slithered to life.

Woolsey had been working, while John had been having fun.

"And what are we going to get back in trade from these agrarian societies?" Sumner abruptly spoke up from behind John's left shoulder. John had almost put the gruff Colonel out of his mind, since he had been simply looming in the background until now.

John wasn't looking forward to Sumner's take on the whole marriage deal. The guy was hardly John's greatest fan to being with, and now he'd just committed Atlantis forces to supporting Athos and the Elite.

"It's about fostering goodwill and making friends within the Alliance as a whole," Woolsey replied.

"Friends?" Sumner asked doubtfully.

"Each world, no matter how 'backward' they may seem to you," Woolsey responded, "have a representative in both the High Council and the Military Council."

"So make friends and influence people," Carter summarised thoughtfully.

"As Major Sheppard put it, this can be seen as a good opportunity for us," Woolsey added, surprising John. "Albeit one thrown at us without warning. Political Marriages within the Alliance are seen as ways of strengthening ties, not imposing heavy obligations. We may have gained more than we might risk, which I will be emphasising in my report to the IOA."

Carter nodded slightly, her small smile seeming relieved. It occurred to John for the first time that he might not be the only one whose job might be at risk because of what he had done back in Tjaru. The thought worried John. The IOA wouldn't blame Carter for this would they?

Carter looked past John to where Sumner was still looming at the back of the office. "Colonel, what's your take on this?" She asked him directly.

John didn't look over his shoulder, but he listened intently as the Colonel shifted his position. John heard him take a breath.

Here we go...

"I think for the first time," the gruff voice replied, "the Major's ability to work his way around procedures and professionalism has paid off for us."

For a second, John wondered if he was in the right universe. Ignoring the dig about professionalism, unpredictably Sumner was actually on his side!

John glanced at Carter and saw her own surprise, but also the smile that she took a second to control.

"This contract," Sumner continued, "gives us Elite military support, and access to their ships and weaponry. Nothing else could have gotten us this close."

John frowned at that. He wasn't considering stealing from the Elite was he?

"The contract places no limitation on what can be exchanged as allies," Woolsey added. "We've known for a while that there wasn't going to be any allowance of trading military technology or weapons with us. That could change now we have a legally recognised contract within the Alliance."

"I say we send in scientists," Sumner recommended. "McKay's wanted to get his eyes inside the Ancient technology we've seen on Athos. Torren can't say no now."

"The contract doesn't give us free rein to do anything we want," Woolsey warned. "What it does is give us unlimited access to Athos' government and contact with the Elite. I'll talk to Torren about the Ancient technology. Perhaps they'll be open to Dr McKay visiting in return for some of their scientists seeing some of Atlantis. We're heading back to Athos tomorrow to talk through the finer details of the contract that we didn't have time for today, so I can bring up the matter with Torren."

"And weapons," Sumner added.

"I think we need to tread carefully there, take our time," Woolsey hedged.

"If you feel you've built up a strong enough relationship with Torren," Carter ordered Woolsey, "see what he thinks about the possibility of exchanging weapons technology, in the future if not now. Remind him of the Retrovirus research. Meanwhile, I'll dial Earth with my report tonight." John tried not to visibly cringe at the thought. "Hopefully we'll get a response from the IOA tomorrow before you travel to Athos."

"You'll be lucky," Sumner muttered.

"We can hope," Carter replied with a strained smile. "If you would both write up your reports and recommendations asap, we can dial Earth within the hour," she ordered.

John wondered why he wasn't included in that order.

"I'll get to work on it right away," Woolsey replied as he stood up, sounding like he'd rather go to bed than start drafting an IOA report. Saying that, the guy was probably used to writing them. He picked up the Alliance pad from Carter's desk as he passed by John. "I'll make sure the marriage contract is uploaded to the city's database."

Carter nodded to Woolsey as he moved away, but John saw her attention shift to Sumner with a look that told John that he was about to be left alone with the City's Commander.

And low and behold, Sumner followed Woolsey out of the office without a word. John watched the door closing behind them and had an impulsive need to make a run for it.

The door closed shut though and John watched the two men moving away along the short bridge to the Control Room.

Movement in front of John drew his reluctant attention back round to Carter. She was moving back round from behind her desk. She returned to her former more casual lean against the closest edge, her full and undivided attention on him. The feeling that he'd let her down plagued at him again.

"Colonel, I know it was a sudden decision," he blurted, "but I didn't have much time, and those Genii... I looked into that Maloo's face and-" he began, remembering the conversation between Woolsey and the grey eyed and uniformed Genii.

"John," Carter interrupted him though, "just tell me this isn't about something else."

What? He frowned at her – was this about the revenge thing? "I know I'm not a fan of the Genii, but they are a real and present danger-"

She let out a breath, crossing her arms over her chest, which wasn't a usual Colonel Carter posture. "I don't mean the Elite. Look," she paused, glancing down thoughtfully, "I know what it can be like when you start to work closely with people, like you have with the Elite-"

"They're good people," John pushed honestly. "I know Colonel Sumner wasn't a fan of them being in the city last time-"

"I'm not talking about the Elite as a whole, John, I talking about Emmagan."

John froze.

Crap.

Feeling his body tensing up and his expression tightening, he forced himself to appear as relaxed as possible; which was probably shouting out just the opposite.

"We've developed a good working relationship," he managed to reply reasonably quickly.

Carter narrowed her eyes slightly, her expression horribly insightful.

John resisted the urge to squirm under her attention.

"I trust her to keep to the deal," he tried, hoping to redirect things. "She knows we can help them in the fight against the Wraith. She's trustworthy to have here in the city."

"I don't doubt that," Carter replied, that narrow-eyed look disappearing. "I believe she'll keep to the contract, and I think the IOA will be okay with her being in the city for the number of days in the contract, under constant supervision of course."

"She'll be okay with that," John reported quickly. "And I'm happy to be the supervision," he added, though guessed that would likely be a bit awkward considering the way things had gone.

Her shouted words still felt like they were echoing around his head.

If she didn't want him in her life, then she shouldn't have taken his offer.

Carter was looking at him too insightfully again. He was almost certain that if he admitted what had happened between him and Teyla that he'd be fired for certain.

"In time, the Elite could share technology," he suggested, moving away from the sore topic again, "maybe some space guns. With the Elite if they see you as useful, as courageous against the Wraith, then they like you."

"And they do seem to like you," Carter replied. "That much was obvious among all the Elite that were here during the treaty talks."

He wasn't sure that was true, but if she wasn't focusing on just Teyla anymore that could only be good.

"Which brings me onto another point," she continued. "This contract has essentially signed over half of your life to living with the Elite or in Alliance territory."

'Half his life' sounded overly dramatic.

"It's for a good cause," John replied, though he hadn't really thought that through. The rest of his life spent with half his time in Alliance space, or on the Sythus with Teyla fighting Wraith. He had signed himself up to a life that he couldn't even hope to predict. As a career pilot that wasn't an entirely new prospect for him, but this was another galaxy. Did this mean he could never return to Earth full time?

"And the IOA may see that as a serious security risk," Carter pointed out, drawing his attention back to her.

That instantly got to him. "If they think I'm going to share Airforce and Earth secrets then they shouldn't have given me this job in the first place."

"I'm not saying that, John. What I'm saying is that we have an obligation to look after you as much as you have to protect Earth's interests. You are going to be away from the city, maybe on Athos or maybe in a fight somewhere without us being able to back you up."

"I've done alright so far in Alliance space," he offered weakly.

"You mean apart from being captured and sold as a slave?" Carter reminded him with a small smile.

"That was ages ago," he dismissed with his own smile, relieved at the small break in tension.

She smiled at him again. He could see that she was tired, but there seemed to be something else in her expression. Concern for him maybe?

"I guess I'm just saying that I hope you've done this for the right reasons, John," she concluded pointedly, and that knowing look was back in play. "That you understand what you've gotten yourself into, assuming the IOA endorse this contract."

He glanced away, feeling more uncomfortable with her concern for him than he had the grilling earlier.

"By all intents and purposes," she carried on with that softer, concerned voice, "this marriage contract has made you a member of the Alliance. We may have to tread _very_ carefully in the future. If a civil war kicks off in the Alliance, or if the Wraith start hitting them back harder, then we could get caught in the middle of things. I can't promise you that you won't be caught in the middle of it if you're in Alliance territory."

He really appreciated her concern, and though her point was valid, he wasn't all that worried about what might happen if an Alliance civil war broke out. If he was with Teyla or other Elite, then he would be okay. He had a faith in them that wasn't blind, he had seen enough of what they could do to back up his faith in them. Even if Teyla didn't want him around, he had no doubt that she would still watch his back in a fix, and he would defend hers until the end of time.

"I understand that," he told Carter honestly. "I'll be okay. I've learnt that if you're going to go into a dangerous situation, it's best to have Elite warriors around you."

Carter smiled faintly and nodded after a beat. "Woolsey and I are going to discuss putting some legalese into the contract tomorrow to cover your safety while in Alliance territory and also some get-out clauses."

Man, he really hadn't thought all of this through when he had made his offer. Lawyers were going to be involved back home, people were going to be studying the contract, making decisions and negotiating terms over him.

And Teyla wanted him out of her life.

He simply nodded to his superior officer though. "Whatever you think is best," he agreed, feeling bad again that he had put all of this on her shoulders. "I really do think this is best for Atlantis."

"I know you do, John," she replied immediately, "and in your place, I might have made the same decision." Okay that was a weird thought considering some of his reasons. "Just make sure that you set out your reasons clearly in your report for the IOA, and perhaps leave out any details that might complicate things for them."

O-kay.

He froze again as he met her eyes.

Her bright yet tired eyes held his.

Fortunately the com activated a second later, Chuck announcing an unexpected activation of the Gate. The Colonel's eyes shifted to her large windows looking out over the Gate Room and then over to the right to where she could see into the Control Room through the glass door and walls.

John rose from the naughty chair and looked down the bridge to the Control Room. "We expecting any teams back?"

Carter was already heading for her door. "We've only got two teams out and one of them is checking in with a group of the refugees."

"Colonel Carter to the Control Room," Chuck announced over the com even as the Colonel was opening her office door.

Woolsey was heading towards her, looking concerned. "It's Torren," he revealed.

John hurried after Carter. Why would Torren call so soon after he and Woolsey had left? Glancing at his watch, John estimated it was well into the evening in Tjaru. Had something happened to Teyla?

"Leader Torren on video link," Chuck announced as Carter entered the Control Room. "He's asking to speak with you, Colonel."

"On the screen," Carter asked.

Sumner was closest to the large flat screen that they often used to chat to Athos through the Gate.

Unsure if he should be involved, but desperate to find out what was happening, John followed, sliding into place behind the Colonels' shoulders as they formed a semicircle with Woolsey around the screen as it came to life. Torren's face filled the screen, and he greeted them with a large smile.

John let out a silent breath of relief. Torren was relaxed, so everything was okay. No one had died or anything.

"Colonel Carter," Torren smiled wider as he bowed his head. "It is pleasure to speak with you again."

"And with you, Leader Torren," Carter replied dipping her head in return.

"I hope you and your people are well," Torren continued, all calm.

"We are, thank you," Carter replied.

"I hope you were pleased with the outcome of today's ceremonies," Torren added.

"We have just been discussing it," Carter replied, carefully not answering that directly. "And our further discussions tomorrow."

"Of course, I look forward to it," Torren replied, his eyes moving on the screen and focused on John. "Major Sheppard," he smiled.

John moved a little further forward so Torren could see him easier. "Leader Torren."

"The reason for my contact," Torren continued, his attention switching between John and Colonel Carter next to him, "is that we have hit a slight issue of legality regarding the Marriage Contract," Torren replied.

John felt his shoulders tighten up instantly. Had Teyla pulled out of it somehow? Or had the Genii kicked up a storm and gotten the whole thing annulled?

"It is nothing too problematic," Torren added quickly. "But I am afraid that it is something that requires immediate response."

"How can we help?" Carter asked.

Torren smiled at her, clearly pleased with her response. "Due to the fact that the Marriage Ceremony immediately followed the Offering Ceremony today, which rarely occurs, we did not have time to finalise some specific details of the contract between our peoples and the Elite. Mr Woolsey and I have an agreement to meet tomorrow to 'iron out'," he smiled, "most of those details, however one issue is more pressing."

John's former nervous tension began to slip into an intuitive feeling that he wasn't going to like where this was headed.

"Normally to solidify the contract, the new couple spend the first segment of their shared time together immediately after their Marriage Ceremony, but unfortunately my Honoured Daughter has to leave on an urgent mission. However, it has since been pointed out that with the new couple being separated immediately after the ceremony, and the possibility that perhaps my Honoured Daughter might be heavily delayed, or perhaps not return at all from her mission, could call the contract into question."

Oh great, John knew where this was going.

"As such, for the contract to stand for our new alliance, both parties will have to spend the next segment, even as little as five days, together or the contract could be challenged," Torren concluded.

"I understand," Carter replied.

"My Honoured Daughter would normally in such a situation invite Major Sheppard to join us on Athos, or for her to perhaps visit your fair city, but with her urgent mission..."

"You need Major Sheppard to join her," Carter interpreted.

"I apologise for the speed of this, and I suspect that your superiors were not necessarily fully prepared for the details of this contract," Torren replied. John got the distinct impression that Torren had chosen those words very carefully. Great, even Torren had worked out that the offer had been a snap decision on John's part.

Carter glanced at Sumner and Woolsey to either side of her.

"My Honoured Daughter has returned to her ship, the Sythus, already, and the Elite onboard have extended their permission for Major Sheppard to join them, and perhaps another if you wish, but no more than that."

"If he goes I want an entire team with him," Sumner stated to Torren and Carter.

"I am afraid that more than two on the Sythus would be impossible," Torren replied towards Sumner. "It is a military ship and short of space, and to be honest, there are security issues that still need to be addressed. Normally, I would not imagine the Elite would agree to this at all, especially considering the urgent mission. However, they already know and respect Major Sheppard, and therefore have consented to his presence."

John felt like every set of eyes in the room were on him.

"How soon do you need our decision?" Carter asked, cutting to the chase.

"It would need to be very soon. Major Sheppard would need to be on the Sythus within one of your Atlantis hours," Torren replied just as directly. "The Sythus will send a transport craft down to the Athos Portal to collect Major Sheppard and his companion. However, if you do not feel that you can spare Major Sheppard at this time, I can possibly try to negotiate further with them."

"Could you give us a moment to discuss this, Leader Torren?" Carter asked.

"Of course," Torren bowed his head.

"Just a few moments," Carter promised, and after Torren again nodded, she indicated to Chuck and the screen went dark.

Carter, Sumner, and Woolsey all turned towards each other and John found himself in the middle of an impromptu huddle.

"What do we think?" Carter asked.

"If we're looking for a way out of this contract, this may be it," Woolsey suggested. John opened his mouth to object, but the guy kept talking. "However, if we want to keep it, then I suggest that we agree."

"We were expecting John to work with the Elite, so it's sooner rather than expected, but..." Carter considered, looking at John.

"I'm okay with it," John offered, though in fact his stomach turned to think that he was going to have to face Teyla again so soon after their fight. But, then, he had gone into this for very real political reasons to help Atlantis and if this was what would keep the contract, then Teyla was just going to have to deal with him. It was too late now.

"We want this contract to stick," John stated for them, and himself.

"The IOA don't even know about it yet," Carter considered.

"If they have strong objections, I can raise them with Torren tomorrow," Woolsey offered. "However, if they endorse the contract, then we do not want to have missed this opportunity to keep it."

John nodded at that thinking.

Carter looked at Sumner. "Colonel?"

"I want an entire team with him."

"You won't get it," John put in quickly. "We're lucky as it is that they're letting me take one person with me."

"I don't like it," Sumner stated, which was hardly a surprise. Except in this instance, Sumner was actually looking out for John.

"I trust the Elite," John told him honestly, looking at his commanding officer directly, openly.

"They're heading out on an urgent mission," Sumner replied gruffly, "we know what that means – dangerous and under the radar. We won't know where you are."

"Happens all the time," John replied. "It's this or not at all, and that would put the contract in jeopardy."

There was a silent pause in the huddle. John worried on the inside of his lip as he watched the two Colonels look at each other.

"Then I suggest you take someone from your team," Carter concluded as she looked at John. Relief and success powered through John, though not entirely washing away the butterflies taking up residence in his stomach.

"Not McKay," he insisted quickly. "He won't handle it on an Elite ship, not yet. Maybe in time we can get him into an engine room maybe..."

"As much as I hate to admit it," Carter replied, "He's too valuable to send."

"Gee, thanks," John muttered.

"Besides Carson has already booked a Jumper ready for them to go fishing on the mandatory rest day – we wouldn't want Rodney missing out," she added with a mischievous smile.

John grinned back. Ah poor Rodney and his fishing trip. John would bet a week's wages that Rodney was trying to find a way to wriggle out of it.

"Cadman or Ford then," John suggested.

"Cadman is on rotation for review tomorrow," Sumner put in. Cadman was still pretty new to the city and John wasn't surprised the Colonel didn't want her sent out to the middle of Alliance nowhere just yet.

"Ford it is," John concluded.

"I don't like this," Sumner reiterated. "I want an entire team."

"I don't think we can force the issue," Carter replied.

John remembered the last time Sumner had tried to force an issue with the Elite – he had ended up passing out on the Conference Room floor. If this contract stuck, John could see a whole heap of trouble ahead when Teyla came for her stay here for the first time. Would she insist on bringing someone else with her too? What if it was Oneakka? John pushed aside that worrying thought, trying not to picture how much trouble Sumner would cause going up against the tattooed super warrior.

"We'll be okay with the Elite," John promised Sumner.

Sumner turned his stoic intense glare on John, the attention like a burrowing insect looking to carve out your brain. "You'll be in enemy territory, without back up, and in a battle zone."

"The Elite will take care of us," John offered, though truthfully they probably wouldn't think of it that way. They were more of the 'if you can't look after yourself don't be here' approach, but John wasn't about to mention that right now.

It was possible that Teyla wouldn't care if he lived or died right now, but if he was there, he could at least watch her back a bit. The realisation hit him that, despite all that had happened, he was still eager to get back to her side and help out during the coming battle. The eagerness really annoyed him.

Sumner turned to Carter and let out a huff of breath. "They'd better," he stated.

"I'm sure they'll look after our people," Carter agreed, but she was already turning back towards the screen. "Chuck," she ordered and abruptly the screen came back to life in front of them.

Torren looked round from where he was stood slightly away from the screen talking over a large electronic pad with Hakon. With a wide smile, Torren moved back to the screen, his smile filling the view again, while Hakon subtly slid out of view in the background.

"Colonel Carter," Torren greeted.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Leader Torren," Carter replied.

"Most understandable, and again I apologise for the speed with which decision has to be made. I am sure you can understand the difficulties of combining both military and political needs."

"I do indeed," Carter agreed with feeling. "We agree that Major Sheppard will join the Elite, with Lieutenant Ford accompanying him."

"Wonderful," Torren smiled, and it looked relieved to John's eye. "I shall inform the Elite."

"They will arrive through the Athosian Gate shortly," Carter replied.

"Thank you, Colonel Carter," Torren replied in turn. "I am glad that this contract can continue as strong now as I hope it will always remain."

"As do we," Carter agreed.

Torren's eyes slid to John. "Good luck, Major."

John had the feeling that the sentiment held a lot more meaning than him simply trying to stay alive while hanging out with the Elite. After all, Torren had been in that corridor and had heard the argument. A fresh burst of embarrassment hit John, but he controlled it as he smiled and nodded to Torren.

"Thanks," he replied.

Torren smiled once more and the connection shut off.

"Chuck, get me Lieutenant Ford," Carter ordered loudly as she turned towards John.

Feeling her gaze on him, John dragged his eyes away from the dark screen where his new Father-in-Law had just vanished.

"Major," she said to him, "pack your bags."

0000  
TBC


	21. Distractions and Strays

**Note:** Happy Easter to those that celebrate it. Hope everyone is well. Here are three new chapters to celebrate the long weekend

00000

**Chapter 21 – Distractions and Strays  
**

To Halling's experienced eyes, Teyla's face looked drawn and overly controlled as she spoke over link from Athos' surface. He and Si had returned to the Sythus ahead of her, reporting to the others on the somewhat unexpected turn of events at Teyla's wedding. The others Halling had so far informed had reacted positively, and Halling suspected the Elite as a whole would quietly celebrate Atlantis' involvement in place of the Genii. The Genii had had little to bring to the table for them, but Atlantis...this contract could change a great deal.

Already something of an unofficial and unspoken ally, Atlantis had so far worked with them several times, providing skilled military eyes and interesting alien weaponry. Somehow, despite the odds being very much against them in being in a precarious position set out alone in an area deep in Wraith held space, Atlantis had to date fought quite successfully against the Wraith.

Then there was the viral weapon Atlantis were developing. If it could do what it promised, then it could change everything in the war against the Wraith. The Elite had detailed little information on the viral weapon, but they knew it was developed from the genetic material of the Iratus bug. There was little information on whether those from Atlantis had all the samples of the Iratus that they needed for this weapon, but to ensure that the Wraith would not control further supply for Atlantis or the Alliance, the Elite had ensured that the planet of the Iratus had been included in the most recent push outwards of the Alliance border. The Wraith had little interest in the planet that had apparently birthed them for they had not fought any harder to keep that area of space, which implied that they had no idea of the potential use of the Iratus bug against them. Which was very good.

And of course there was also the actual City of the Ancestors. Some days Halling still could barely believe that he had actually walked through the ancient legendary hallways of the Ancestral City. Growing up on Athos he had been told stories of the Ancestors and their city for as far back as he could remember. One of the first stories he had been told as a young child had been a tale of an Athosian child who had visited the Ancestral City herself, returning with a souvenir that the Ancestors had given her. He had been taught that the Athosians were especially beloved by the Ancestors, not that Halling truly believed that now as an adult. However, having actually walked those hallways only a week or so ago now, he had been unable to stop thinking over that old Athosian child's tale.

To think now that the Athosians were directly allied with Atlantis – it almost seemed as if those ancient stories of the links between Athos and the Ancestors could almost be true. He knew it was foolish, but it had borne a strange new excited hope inside him.

A hope that he would have expected to see on Teyla's face now, since this had to be the best outcome to her mind as well. However, it was clear that something unfortunate had occurred with Major Sheppard. Halling had been rather impressed with the way the married couple had worked hard to conceal their anger and discomfort during the hours of meeting their wedding guests. To Halling though, it had been clear that Teyla had not been pleased, despite this excellent alliance outcome.

Watching her face now, seeing the strain to her controlled features, he could almost see a vulnerability in her that he could not recall having seen often in his close friend. Choosing Atlantis for this contract had been the best decision, but it was clear to Halling that Teyla would have preferred it not have been formed through Major Sheppard.

That fact was even more ironic since it now appeared that the Major would be joining the Sythus very shortly. Teyla was clearly not happy about that either.

"Father is contacting them now," she said, which was a point she had already made twice in this short conversation.

"I will contact the Training Facility," Si put in from Halling's left as they both stood in front of the display screen in Central Station. "Inform them to elect someone to speak with Atlantis representatives through Leader Torren while you and Major Sheppard are away."

Teyla nodded slightly. A faint frown of annoyance was fleeting, but Halling spotted it. "I will contact the Military Council now," she continued, trying to appear unfazed. "I will speak with Jobrill, since Nalla will be on the mission with us. Jobrill will liaise with Father and the Training Facility."

Halling nodded, working not to glance at Si next to him, suspecting the man was picking up everything he was in their friend.

"Agreed," Si intoned to her.

"I do not believe the others will object to my decision," she considered, which again was a point she had already voiced. She was clearly not herself.

"We have already agreed here that the decision was a good one," Si informed her, though admittedly it had only been them both, Nalla, and Seifer who had agreed. Halling wouldn't imagine that Oneakka would object, seeming to respect Major Sheppard already and Oneakka would be keen to have access to any intell or weaponry that Atlantis might share in the future.

Teyla nodded with a tight smile. She was grateful for the vote of confidence, but still too controlled to say anything about it. "As long as you agree, and are happy with his presence on the Sythus."

"It is hardly the first time," Halling pointed out the obvious.

She nodded. "I suspect that the other Atlantis member will be from Major Sheppard's team, so will also be known to us."

Halling angled his head and glanced at Si out of the corner of his eye. "Tyoosi has been informed, he will meet them as soon as they are aboard and will ensure that a full security check and orientation is implemented. Otherwise, they are our allies now; we have to have some trust in them."

Teyla nodded at the logic.

"Your husband has proven his worth enough for us to trust him to keep his people in line while onboard," Si stated.

"He will," she replied immediately. At least in that regard she still had faith in Sheppard.

"When will you be returning?" Si asked.

Teyla glanced aside at something. "I am packed and will be returning in the transport shortly. Once they arrive through the Portal, I will take the transport back down to collect them."

"Agreed," Si replied.

"Then we will be able to get underway to Outer Lantana," she added with the most animation that she had shown all day.

"Very well," Halling agreed.

"I shall be with you shortly," she concluded, giving them another strained smile before reaching out and the connection cut.

Halling reached out and disconnected the link this end as well. He turned to look at Si with interest.

Si lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips by way of an answer to Halling's unspoken question. Beyond Si' wide shoulders, Nalla was stood on duty at the front of Central Station looking at them with a faint smile. Halling was almost certain that she could not pick up much over link, but no doubt she was well aware of his and Si' response to Teyla's clear discomfort.

Halling glanced to Si and back to her. "We will need to house the two from Atlantis somewhere."

"There are barrack places," Seifer entered into the conversation from the back of the station. He was sat somewhat slouched in a chair, looking bored.

"Strictly speaking," Halling considered, "Major Sheppard should have a room adjoining Emmagan's."

"No space for that," Seifer dismissed.

"Then Sheppard's companion will go into barracks," Si added, ignoring Seifer's comment.

"Split them up?" Seifer considered, "Might be useful. We can keep a closer eye on them when they're apart."

"Sheppard has been trustworthy enough," Halling reminded him.

"He is trustworthy," Nalla confirmed as she approached them.

"If Sheppard brings a member of his team the individual will be military trained. The companion goes into the barracks, and possibly Sheppard too," Si stated. Halling met his gaze at that comment. Si knew the details of the marriage contract as Halling did.

"So we have yet _another_ two strays on the ship," Seifer sighed from his seat.

"Not strays," Halling corrected him. "They are our allies now. We have a great deal to benefit from this contract in our battle against the Wraith. That must be kept in mind. They are political visitors."

"We should greet them appropriately then," Nalla considered as she leant a hip against the side of the central display table.

Halling nodded, as did Si, but Seifer frowned.

"At least this first time," Nalla added with a persuading smile to Seifer.

"It is all agree then," Si concluded decisively as he reached down and activated a display screen. "We should receive the latest scan data shortly. I will look through it when it arrives and report later."

"I'm on duty station now," Seifer stated as he rose from his seat.

"Thank you," Nalla replied, her own duty rotation over for now.

"I should update Oneakka," Halling considered as he moved away.

"I shall join you part of the way," Nalla stated as she fell into step with him. It was nice to have her back on the Sythus.

"I assume that Oneakka has been working on the Toshka database today," Halling considered as they walked together down the long corridor away from Central Station.

"Yes," Nalla confirmed. "There is so much data that he has formed a small team who have been shut away in the lab all day."

Halling nodded, unsurprised. "I suspect that he will have no objections to Sheppard's presence, and his companion."

"I doubt he will," Nalla agreed. "Oneakka is very focused on his work...mostly."

Halling had to nod at that. His friend was very dedicated, but he also enjoyed his hobbies of tinkering and studying. "When is he not?" Halling agreed as he triggered open the doors to the transport and waited for Nalla to enter before him.

She stepped in first and turned towards him, smiling faintly to herself as she did, as if amused at something only she knew.

He stepped in at her side and the doors closed. "It is good that you are here for this," he told her as he triggered the floor he wished. "We need to be certain of things with Sheppard's companion."

The transporter moved faintly under them.

Nalla looked at him with a faint frown creasing her purple brow. "You say that, but you are not concerned about Atlantis."

"I believe they want exactly the same as we do – to defeat the Wraith."

She nodded, but her frown remained.

It was just a little too similar to another frown he had seen today. He glanced away.

He had not thought about Sitayi' strange behaviour since he had left Tjaru with Si. He thought that it likely that the Ambassador's sickness had simply weakened her. Not that she had seemed weak while she had spoken with Teyla and Sheppard in the Gathering Courtyard after the Marriage Ceremony.

A faint nervous niggle worried at him.

"Are you alright, Halling?" Nalla asked, sounding abruptly worried.

The transporter doors slid open.

"I am fine," Halling told her instantly, despite the obvious truth that she could feel exactly what he felt at this moment.

The purple eyebrows dipped again, but the expression brought forth the memories of Sitayi' unusual stares even more intently. He jerked away from Nalla, heading out quickly through the opening transporter doors.

"The sooner those from Atlantis join us the better," he redirected the conversation as he turned back towards where she still stood in the transporter to travel to another floor.

Nalla nodded politely.

She was respecting his emotional privacy.

He smiled at her, feeling strangely cruel in not sharing with her. There was nothing really of note to share anyway. Sitayi had just been concerned before the ceremonies, perhaps worrying over the outcome of the contract and likely still not feeling well.

"I am fine," he reiterated to Nalla, forcing himself to smile. He suspected it looked as strained as Teyla's had over the link.

Nalla nodded in response though, the doors closed between them. She had clearly not believed him, but it did not matter.

He turned away from the closed doors and headed swiftly down the corridor. He passed two open doorways that looked in on very busy engine rooms. Everything was ready for the fast approaching departure for Outer Lantana, but clearly Ru was ensuring that every procedure was checked repeatedly. His record noted the man's thoroughness to detail. The air around the busy crew practically hummed with the familiar state of nervous excitement and determination.

Halling moved on past the engine rooms though, instead heading towards the engineering lab that housed the copy of Toshka's computer database. Kept separate from the Sythus' main computers, the lab was the only place on the ship that could directly access the data on the copy database. Despite Division and Enforcement working on the database themselves, Oneakka was doing his own research. After all, they had something the official departments did not; they had the copy of the Dreamstation database to cross-reference with Toshka's files. It would provide a step up in tracing criminal individuals, links, and organisations in Toshka's gathered material. It would also hopefully provide Oneakka with further information on his primary research topic - Iketani' past actions. Halling hoped that despite the mountainous amount of data involved, useful intell could be gathered quickly before those involved would have time to scurry away and hide. Not that Oneakka wouldn't hunt them down anyway, but it would take him longer and therefore annoy him.

The door to the lab was open as Halling approached and through it he could see two security personnel, Nevaeh and Zasla, working away on the computer screens set into the far wall. Already Halling could see there was a mass of data moving across the screens in front of them.

That was not all he detected from this distance though. He could already hear Oneakka and Seeal bickering. He could not make out the words, but their distinctive voices and arguing tone were obvious.

Halling worked to control his patience as he stepped through the open doorway.

There were a further three more crew working in the lab, all sat round one small table, the surface of which was littered with tablets and cups. Madesh was also sat at the table, bent over his tablets, deeply engrossed in his work...and quite obviously sitting away from the other techs at the table. It was a subtle point, but his exclusion was obvious to Halling.

The other isolated feature in the room was the actual copy of Toshka's drive which was sat in the corner of the narrow room, a myriad of cables extending from the clearly cobbled together design of the large storage drive.

As Halling moved down the room, passing behind Nevaeh, he glanced over the screens she was working on. She was assigning data from searches into folders which were titled with names of individuals or locations. Other screens displayed searches in progress, the strange encoding to Toshka's computer no longer a hindrance.

The techs around the table were searching more directly, looking through the multiple folder system of Toshka's drive, and they appeared to be searching Alliance records as well.

Beyond them, stood with their backs to Halling and the rest of the room, were Oneakka and Seeal. They were bickering as they looked at the largest wall screen.

It was not lost on Halling that everyone else in the room wasn't paying any attention to the pair, which implying that, as usual, the bickering had been ongoing for some time.

Halling wasn't sure why Oneakka put up with Seeal's disrespect sometimes. Oneakka was not normally one to argue over petty details of things, being usually one to use a growl or a stare to get his way. However, he was a fan of getting in the last word, and Halling suspected it was that tendency, and just plain battle of wills, that drove Oneakka's ongoing arguments with Seeal. She had been extremely useful to date, and Halling did trust Oneakka's judgement on her, so for now he simply put up with their almost childish need to one up each other verbally.

As he approached them now, he finally registered the subject of their current sparring match.

"Every link counts, isn't that the point of all this?" Seeal was asking Oneakka.

"Only links that matter," Oneakka responded as he reached up and tapped the large display screen, moving its focus with the touch of his finger, scrolling through an interlinked map of folders.

"How can it _not _matter that his sister used to roll around with Kolya?" Seeal demanded.

"We aren't plotting a social study of Kolya's historical sleeping habits," Oneakka argued as he stopped the display over one folder.

"His sleeping habits are vitally important," Seeal stated as she reached up and touched the screen, scrolling the display back to where it was before Oneakka had moved it.

However, Oneakka scrolled the screen display back the other way again with a swift jab and a gruff growling noise. "This is about betrayal-" Oneakka began.

"Exactly," Seeal replied as if she were speaking to a child not an Elite warrior. "No one gets that more than a past lover." She reached up and once again scrolled the screen back to the start.

Halling sighed to himself. Clearly they needed an adult to intervene. He had stopped a few feet behind their shoulders and suspected that they had no idea he was here, so engrossed in their verbal battle to notice. That said a lot to Halling.

Oneakka reached up and began to scroll the screen again, but Seeal slapped his hand away from the screen and scrolled it back.

To say that Halling was shocked at such behaviour was an understatement and he felt his shoulders and back tense as he quickly looked to Oneakka's profile, accessing how angry his friend was going to be. No one ever slapped an Elite, even if only on the hand, and certainly not Oneakka! Halling had seen Oneakka unleash his fury on people for far less than that.

Except, the bickering simply continued.

Oneakka didn't retaliate at all, in fact appeared almost not to have noticed. How could he not react to such disrespectful behaviour from her?

"We're not interested in revenge," Oneakka stated to Seeal.

"This is _all_ about revenge," Seeal replied with feeling.

Aware that Oneakka really wasn't about to lose his temper with Seeal, Halling willed his shoulders to relax.

"If you're not going to be helpful you can go back to your quarters," Oneakka told Seeal as the battle of the display's focus continued. "Or a Rosenthalain prison," he added.

"If you keep making the same threat and not following through on it," Seeal replied, "it loses all meaning."

However, she had stopped trying to control the focus of the display screen.

"Maybe I will follow through on it," Oneakka warned her with a glare.

"I'm the one who came up with this plan," Seeal objected.

"To find links in the data?" Oneakka ask sarcastically, "I would never have come up with that by myself!"

"I'm the one who came up with this trail," Seeal argued, and Halling had had enough.

How these two didn't have a constant headache from this bickering was anyone's guess. To save himself from a headache of his own, Halling decided to step in.

"What trail?" He asked.

Seeal and Oneakka both snapped their heads round towards him abruptly, confirming his belief that neither of them had noticed his arrival.

Halling had worried a little about Sheppard's new position as Teyla's husband, and his forthcoming presence on the ship, and how it might serve to distract Teyla. However, it appeared that he should be more concerned about Seeal's presence being a distracting irritation to Oneakka.

Perhaps Seifer was correct about "collecting strays" as becoming a problem.

"To find a trail back to the High Council," Seeal replied.

"We're building a map of the connections between those The Traitor worked with, with those we know are corrupt inside and around the High Council," Oneakka explained in more detail.

"Added to the Dreamstation logs," Seeal added, "and it's already working. We've already discovered that Malaca's immediate employers on the station in Sector 18 are linked to a mining company that is owned by the brother of one of your suspect Councillors."

That caught Halling's full interest. He moved forward to stand between Seeal and Oneakka before the large screen. Seeal scrolled the display to a particular folder and tapped it open, displaying a variety of data and images.

"I have something further on the brother's wife," Nevaeh called from the nearby wall screen. "She visited Dreamstation's gambling tables on three occasions when Iketani was also there. I've pulled up the record of the gambling data and it looks like the wife wasn't at the tables all that much during those particular stays. She was up to something else."

"Iketani' gaining influence or blackmailing," Halling considered thoughtfully.

"We've also found direct correlations already between the recent arrests and data in Toshka's database," Nevaeh added.

"That and suspect High Council figures," Seeal added as she tapped open another folder. "One of which has a trail to Kolya."

"Possible trail," Oneakka corrected.

Seeal almost rolled her eyes at him. "Any trail is a trail, whether it's through past lovers or business contacts."

"You've found an ex-lover of Kolya's?" Halling asked keeping her on track.

"Yes," Seeal replied immediately as she tapped open another file. An image still from a station's surveillance showed a tall elegant woman with long curly hair. "From a good decade ago, if not longer. Her brother now runs one of the largest suppliers of metal sheeting for military and station use."

"Kolya's affair with her was over a decade ago," Oneakka put in. "There is no evidence that she has had any links to Kolya since."

"Not that we've found so far," Seeal argued, "because I haven't done a full search yet."

"If there's any research to be done, it's on the brother and any possible links to supplying the High Council with military hardware and/or building materials," Oneakka replied to her.

"I thought you wanted Kolya fully researched? That includes his history," Seeal replied, turning to face Oneakka past Halling's front. Halling worked on his patience.

"We are doing that, but not wasting time on the tiniest links. Flag the woman's name and the brother's business and move on," Oneakka ordered in response, before turning to face Halling, thereby physically dismissing Seeal. Halling had been squeezed into difficult or tight places frequently enough over the years, but he found stood practically squeezed between Oneakka and Seeal somewhat uncomfortable.

"News?" Oneakka asked roughly.

Halling glanced at Seeal, who had decided to not argue back finally, and was now jabbing hard at the screen, her jaw clenching. "Indeed," Halling informed Oneakka as he angled his head to suggest moving away.

Oneakka followed him away from the display screen, and Halling was almost certain he saw two of the techs look relieved. Most likely because there was a pause in the bickering.

Halling reached the empty wall which provided the most privacy available in the narrow room and Oneakka took up position with his back to the room.

"There was a surprise offering at the ceremony," Halling began.

"Against the Genii?"

"Yes," Halling nodded, his attention shifting to Seeal over Oneakka's shoulder. She was still angrily jabbing at the display screen; however, she did appear to be entering in new search criteria.

"Who?" Oneakka asked. "She took the offer?" He added, a step ahead already.

Halling focused his attention on his friend. "Atlantis."

"Really?" Oneakka asked shocked. "Sheppard?"

Halling nodded.

Oneakka grinned and chuckled. "Didn't know he had it in him."

"Teyla seems less than pleased," Halling informed him quietly.

"I bet she isn't," Oneakka chuckled again and then frowned. "This could be good."

Halling nodded. "That is the general consensus so far."

"Are they still working on that viral weapon?"

"I am not sure, but it is certainly top of our list to discuss with our new allies in Atlantis," Halling replied. Oneakka nodded and Halling could practically see the thoughts passing behind his friend's eyes.

"However, there is a small complication. Because of the unexpected offering, the Marriage Contract has to be held to by the letter, so Sheppard and a companion from Atlantis have to spend the next few days with us."

Oneakka frowned and then shrugged. "Sheppard could be helpful with the mission."

"He is a political figure now," Halling pointed out. Seeal was glaring across the room at Oneakka's back as she roughly snatched up some electronic pads from the techs' table.

"So is Teyla, you don't see her sitting on her backside," Oneakka pointed out.

"It would be preferable to keep Sheppard and his companion alive whilst they are with us."

"If you want that for certain then they shouldn't come aboard," Oneakka returned, logically enough.

Halling had to agree. "I take it you do not have any objection to them being on board?"

Oneakka shrugged again. "Doesn't matter to me. We could take the opportunity to compare any intell on Kolya and The Traitor."

Halling nodded, unsurprised at Oneakka's viewpoint. "Tyoosi wants Sheppard and his companion enrolled with the crew tomorrow, shown all the basics and involved with daily chores and training."

Oneakka nodded, his arms crossing over his front. Halling frowned at the somewhat unusual body language, especially given the relaxed enough situation. Halling glanced over to where Seeal had stopped glaring and was back working on the searches.

"I want Madesh and Seeal enrolled as well," Oneakka stated.

"Madesh is expected to be included now he is assigned here, but Seeal as well?" Halling asked.

"We're going into battle, she needs to be trained."

"I suspect," Halling pointed out, "that given her past, she is probably quite well versed on correct behaviour in an emergency situation."

"Not on this ship."

Halling had to concede that point. He wasn't sure why he felt resistant to Seeal's ongoing presence. She was useful, and it was true enough that if she was going to be on the Sythus for this battle, then she should be trained in their procedures.

He looked from Oneakka to Seeal, and then down to the quiet isolated figure of Madesh. He had to wonder how the two were going to be received by the crew.

Halling nodded though. "I'll tell Tyoosi. She, Sheppard, and his companion cannot be assigned the same access though."

Oneakka nodded. "They need to know our ways, and if Sheppard is Teyla's husband now, he should be taught how to properly deal with a Wraith."

"They do fairly well in Atlantis," Halling noted.

"By pouring hundreds of bullets into a single Wraith."

"It seemed to work rather well on the Glisi world."

Oneakka shrugged dismissively again, glancing over his left shoulder towards Seeal and away again.

"I'm sure the others will agree to their inclusion," Halling considered. "Though Seifer will not be pleased."

"Seifer should dedicate as much time to assisting in the crew training as he does to painting his hair."

Halling smiled, knowing that Oneakka trusted his fellow Elite in Seifer, but that the two did seem to rub each other the wrong way at times. Oneakka tended to clash with most people, his unique direct bluntness somewhat alienating. Not that he cared about making people feel comfortable in his presence.

Halling suddenly abruptly missed Kari. She had always been outspoken in her views as well, but they had always been trusted, direct comments. She had only said what was necessary. Seifer was more prone to complaints, but he was an excellent warrior.

It seemed that with each passing hour things were changing with gathering speed. Even through the many battles and changing faces on the Sythus over the years there had been a stability that seemed to have disappeared recently. So much seemed to have changed so quickly – Iketani' betrayal, Madesh working for the Elite and now assigned to the Sythus, Seeal's continuing unexpected presence, the ship's new engine and Lead Engineer, Kari' death, wildlife wandering the hallways, and now Teyla was married to Sheppard. Two people from another galaxy were about to take up residence on the ship for this mission.

Halling feared to think what might happen next!

Sitayi' stare flittered through his mind, staring at him down the Ceremonial Room, at him and no other.

"You okay?" Oneakka asked, snapping Halling's attention back to him.

"Yes," Halling lied quickly. "You are doing good work," he gestured towards the displays. "How long do you think it will take?"

Oneakka looked over his shoulder towards his eclectic research team. "There's enough information in the two databases to study for months, but the main searches...to cross-reference them with our own records...maybe another few days. To Lantana and back will be enough."

Halling nodded. By the time they returned from the battle the data would be gathered, Seeal would depart to wherever, and Sheppard and his companion would return to Atlantis. Maybe then everything would return somewhat to normal.

"We will need your focus for the pre-mission plans and working through the scans," Halling pointed out calmly.

"You'll have it," Oneakka responded instantly and with only the faintest hint of annoyance.

"This battle will be decisive," Halling reflected. "We have waited a long time for this moment."

Oneakka nodded. "Let's hope it works."

Halling nodded in turn. "Indeed."

Yet, Sitayi' eyes played through his mind again, the deep old depth of her stare like a panicking void that kept drawing in his focus.

He forcibly pulled his mind away from the memories once more, imagining locking them tightly away in a box.

He would not be distracted, after all there was far too much distraction going on already on this ship.

0000  
TBC


	22. Return to The Sythus

00000

**Chapter 22 – Return to The Sythus  
**

It was just perfectly appropriate that it was raining on Athos.

John frowned up at the dark clouds overhead, which had been on the horizon when he and the others had left Athos not all that long ago. There was a good wind behind the clouds though, and behind the heavy drizzle which was coating his hair and face. It was still evening here, the sun hovering just on the horizon, cutting sharp dying light under the dark clouds overhead.

There was no one around the Gate, no carts waiting or any pedestrians moving along the long road up to Tjaru. The ground before him and Ford was slick with mud, telling of a recent downpour that had probably helped persuade the Athosians to stay inside for the evening. The remaining drizzle was working hard to soak into John's uniform as the wormhole shut down behind him and Ford. At least he was out of his Blues.

"Wow, some change in the weather," Ford muttered from under his cap as he stepped up to John's side.

The kid had been nothing but enthusiastic at his assignment to go play with the Elite for the rest of the week. Even reminding Ford that they were heading into a dangerous battle against the Wraith hadn't put off the enthusiasm, in fact the kid looked more excited than before. It was probably the prospect of possibly getting his hands on "space guns" and poking around an Elite ship.

John wished he could feel a tenth of the same enthusiasm, but right now all he felt was a twisted nervous knot in his stomach. Teyla wasn't going to be happy to have him around so soon after their shouting match – well, that was her problem, he reminded himself. She had picked him to be her husband, so he wasn't going to go run and hide. He'd made this contract because of political decisions, not her liking him, and he had an important point to make. The Alliance needed to see that Atlantis was mucking in straight away with the Elite, getting in there to fight the Wraith for real.

Plus the IOA needed to see some real outcomes from this marriage as quickly as possible. Talking Wraith battles and hopefully helping out somewhat would hopefully look good in his report afterwards, and maybe help save Colonel Carter's job.

The guilt twisted in his middle along with the nervous tension.

He let out a heavy breath as he looked up at the clouds again, looking for any sign of the promised Elite shuttle that was supposed to take them up to the Sythus.

"Major," Ford said quietly and John looked to him to see the kid indicate off to the left.

John looked round towards the usual small guard hut. The usual two guards stationed outside of it were absent, just one stood in the doorway. Unusually, two poles had been set up outside the hut, supporting fabric hanging down from the roof creating a small amount of shelter. It was shelter though and hopefully the guard in the doorway could help out with getting a message to the Sythus.

John moved across the wet ground as casually as possible, making sure not to hold his P90 in any way that could be seen as aggressive. It was weird being on Athos fully armed and wearing a fully stuffed pack on his back. He'd packed only the basics, but enough small extras to make a stay on the Sythus a little more comfortable – his book, full toiletries, and that electronic pad with the marriage contract on it. He's actually started to read the thing while he had gone to his quarters and packed, and then on the way back to the Gate Room to meet with Ford. There was a lot in the contract, most of which Woolsey had already mentioned to the Colonels, but there had been other more personal points. Like the fact that if Teyla and he had any kids, then the contract would be considered binding for the lifetime of their kid/s and any further generations, regardless of any signed contract. He was grateful Woolsey hadn't gone into all that during the meeting – maybe he hadn't thought it relevant.

It wasn't, John reminded himself as he stepped under the limited shelter outside the guard hut.

The guard inside the doorway moved aside and two new faces appeared. Two guards from the Tjaru Governing Complex stepped out to either side of the doorway. John knew they were from the complex because there were wearing that extra fancy uniform that they only wore when there were big political events in the complex...like his wedding today.

Why they were here right now though...

John opened his mouth to ask if everything was okay, but a further figure stepped out of the hut.

Zabetha.

She was still in the same dress from the wedding, though she wore a thick green coat partially closed over it. Her smile was bright and wide, similar to Teyla's but not as beautiful.

"Major Sheppard," she smiled as she approached him. "Welcome again."

"Mistress Zabetha," John greeted her in response. "Didn't know you were going to be here."

"My father and I wished to ensure that you safely departed on your mission," she replied, glancing at Ford as he stepped up beside John and nodded politely to her.

"Thanks," John replied a little awkwardly. Had Torren sent her here with some message? Maybe something about the argument he and Teyla had had? Did Zabetha know about him and Teyla? Sisters told each other everything right?

"We have informed the Sythus of your arrival and a transport vessel is on its way to collect you both," she continued with that perfect polite voice and smile of hers. John wondered if her face ached after having smiled all day at all the wedding guests.

"Great, thanks," John replied. "You didn't have to come out in the rain to see us off," he offered quickly.

She smiled again. "We are very grateful that you have agreed to join this mission, that your people place as much importance on this new contract between our two peoples as we do."

"It's very important to us," John replied seriously; hopefully those back on Earth would agree.

"That is very good to hear," Zabetha replied, still smiling.

A faint new noise became discernible over the patting heavier rain and John glanced away to see an Elite shuttle approaching quickly down through the clouds. Ford moved to the edge of the shelter as they watched shuttle perform a speedy well executed approach, banking round to settle down in the open space in front of the Gate.

Ford looked back over his shoulder with an excited grin. "Cool," he smiled.

John returned a smile, but his eyes stayed on the shuttle as it settled. Would Teyla be in there, or would she have sent someone else so she could keep him out of her life a little longer?

"Major Sheppard," Zabetha drew his attention back round to her. "We wish you a great victory in the battle ahead."

John nodded back. "Thanks," he smiled, only to notice that there was something rather pointed in her look. Was she wishing him victory in another battle? Perhaps the more personal one with Teyla?

Zabetha lifted her hands to his shoulders, ready to perform the usual Athosian ritual, so he quickly set his hands on her shoulders in return. He dipped his head and pressed the top of his forehead to hers briefly.

"Good luck to you, _Brother_," she whispered more quietly as their foreheads parted.

He smiled back at her, feeling simultaneous awkward but kind of touched at the title. Her smile seemed so friendly.

John looked round to the Elite shuttle to see that the side hatch had opened – it was time to go.

He smiled back at Zabetha one last time. "Take care," he offered.

"Please, give my best wishes to my sister," Zabetha added as he moved away, which was odd, because hadn't she just said goodbye to her sister already.

"Will do," John promised and moved away from her, back out into the rain, leading Ford across the open space to the waiting shuttle.

He moved quickly, slipping into the faster pace that the Elite would expect. A mission was about to begin, and the Sythus had probably already been kept waiting to pick them up. If Oneakka were inside, he'd point out that fact no doubt.

John almost hoped the big guy was in there.

As he neared the open hatch, Ford just behind his shoulder, he scanned the growing view he had of the inside of the shuttle, and a shape formed in the dim interior.

He could recognise her just from her outline.

He just needed to keep things professional, keep it political.

He reached the hatch, reached up to the side handle and swiftly pulled himself up inside.

It was instantly warmer and drier inside, but hardly comfortable.

Teyla was sat across from the hatch, her hands folded on her lap, still dressed in her Elite brown coat. Her swords still on her back.

She looked at him briefly, her gaze moved quickly onto Ford as he pulled himself up inside behind John.

"Ma'am," Ford greeted her, actually touching the front of his cap with his fingers.

"Lieutenant Ford," Teyla replied with a more natural smile.

No smile for him though. Annoyed, John moved past her in the small shuttle space to drop down into a seat at the back. Ford held back though, looking around the open hatchway.

"The trigger is on the right side," Teyla instructed Ford, his first dose of Elite orientation.

"Got it," Ford smiled back as he jabbed the control and the hatch slid into place, sealing out the rain and evening chill.

Ford moved to join John in the back seats, sitting down beside him. "This is great," Ford bubbled.

John tried to smile back, but it wasn't working. Not only was it awkward enough with Teyla, but John hadn't factored in the point that Ford was here as a witness too. He was going to have to seem normal.

Teyla gave orders to the pilot at the front and immediately a vibration started up under them, the horizon outside the front viewport shifting up and around. These shuttles were almost as good as Jumpers.

"Thank you for returning so swiftly," Teyla said, drawing John's attention back to her, surprised that she was actually talking to him, though not actually looking directly at him. "The Elite appreciate your timely manner."

As long as all the other Elite did...

"Sure," John replied to her, feeling simultaneously cross with her and also just a little bit excited to now be back here. He squashed that feeling quickly as he looked back out the front, watching the dark Athosian clouds filling the view.

"Once we are aboard the Sythus," Teyla continued, her tone all professional and Elite. It bugged him. "You will be met by Tyoosi, the ship's Security Lead. He will guide you through security checks and a full orientation with the ship and our procedures."

There was a pause.

John glanced at back her.

She looked back at him, like he was supposed to say something.

"Sure," he replied. "Whatever _you_ want." He hadn't meant to make it sound so bitter or pointed, but he saw the shift in her expression.

Great, he was handling this all wrong.

He had meant to be professional and political, but seeing her sitting there all in Elite mode, no emotion on her face...it really rattled him.

"Everyone back home's really pleased with this contract," he found himself telling her. "We've been waiting for this kind of opportunity to properly work with the Elite, not just passing back and forth bits of filtered information."

Her dark eyes shifted to him. Yep, she took that as a dig at her. Good.

"I'm practically a hero back home," he added, without thinking.

"I am sure this contract will greatly benefit your people in time," she replied as she looked away towards the front.

"And yours too," John pointed out, pushing things. A small voice inside reminded him that it was his fast mouth that had gotten him into this problem to start with. No, that was wrong, it had been her decision to try to marry another man that had gotten them in to this...which was a political thing and all about Atlantis.

Silence descended in the back of the shuttle.

John kept his eyes on her though, watching her with a heady mix of resentment and annoyance.

Turned to look away from him, the left side of her neck was exposed, showing the long line of dark Wraith tattoos. Each one represented a Wraith Queen she had killed with her own hands.

He dragged his eyes away from the long inked patterns, the path of which he knew intimately.

Remembering that Ford was next to him, he glanced at the kid. Ford had to be picking up on all this tension...what was he making of it?

Except all of Ford's attention appeared to be focused ahead and his mouth was partly open. John looked round for himself, looking out the front to see the darkness of space and the sparkle of stars across the vast view. It wasn't the stars that had Ford's rapt attention though, it was the dark, sleek hull of the Sythus.

John had seen the ship from the outside a few times now, but it never grew old. Shaped rather like a shark, the whole thing screamed predator. Of course the streamline design wasn't necessary in space, but John had piloted the Sythus' former sister ship, the Hastos, in atmosphere and knew how manoeuvrable the ship could be. It moved just like it looked – a predator, unpredictable and deadly to its enemies.

He glanced at Teyla. With her Wraith tattoos, her swords on her back and her expression of granite stoicism, she looked just like the Sythus - A deadly predator. Like all the Elite.

He realised that she had never really tried to be anything else.

They had both agreed from the start that their affair wasn't going to last, that they couldn't be together.

He had known it was going to end, but he never would have guessed it would be like this – arguing, at odds, but married.

The marriage wasn't for them though, it was for Atlantis, Athos, and the Elite. They were just pawns in that deal really. They were just the hands that signed the contract.

It was done though, and it was now just a matter of getting all he could out of this for Atlantis.

This wasn't about him and Teyla.

It was about their people.

The shuttle shuddered and John looked forward to see that they were already settling down in the Sythus' shuttle bay. He hadn't been paying attention.

The second the shuttle settled, Teyla shot up from her seat and moved towards the hatch. As she crossed John's view, he noticed that there were a lot of people out the front of the hatch, and moving past them was Halling. Which reminded John...

He turned to Ford as Teyla opened the side hatch and swiftly disappeared out of it.

"Remember to keep your cool with the Elite," John told Ford as they got up from their seats, "just remember to be respectful. Don't push them on anything. Their word is law on this ship, okay. If they don't like us, they can throw us out an airlock."

Ford nodded, looking a little more focused and serious now as they made their way to the hatch. "Yes, Sir," Ford replied.

Sir, right yes, because John was his superior and this was business.

Taking a breath, John took hold of the side bar of the hatchway and stepped down into the now familiar Sythus shuttle bay. Only it wasn't quite as familiar today. Ranks of the ship's crew were stood in long lines across the bay, all stood at military attention, all facing the shuttle and him.

"O-kay," John uttered nervously to himself as Ford stepped down next to him.

Teyla turned back towards him, and past her, Halling, Si, and two other men stepped forward.

"Welcome back to the Sythus, Major Sheppard of Atlantis and Earth," Halling stated loudly.

John guessed he was supposed to say something significant here...I want to thank my family, my director and God for this award...

"Thanks for having us," he went for instead. "We're here to assist any way we can in the upcoming battle."

Halling smiled and nodded, Si as well. At least they were familiar faces.

"Major Sheppard," Teyla added formally. "This is Security Lead Tyoosi." One of the two men stepped forward and nodded slightly.

John nodded back, aware of Ford doing the same next to him.

"I trust you with my husband's care during his stay with us," Teyla carried on. Great, he was being left with the sitter.

"I am honoured," Tyoosi replied to her, but his eyes never left John.

He had a Sumner style stare...fun.

The stare shifted to Ford next to John and John realised he hadn't officially introduced the kid.

"This is Lieutenant Aiden Ford, a member of my team," he introduced formally.

Tyoosi angled his head in a faint returning nod to Ford, but quickly turned to the other unknown man at his side. "This is Numfar, he is your assigned guide during your stay. If you have any questions or concerns, you will speak to him."

John looked at the guy with the unfortunate name. Numfar was a squat strong looking guy, with an honest looking smile. Numfar bowed to him.

John nodded back, not sure if the husband of an Elite warrior should bow to the Sythus' crew. Maybe the marriage contract would have details on such things – he'd check later, after all he still had most of it to read.

Teyla shifted and all eyes returned to her. "Lead Tyoosi," she said with her back to John, "I leave my husband in your expert care." And then she marched away down the aisle between the watching parade ground display of the Elite crew.

Halling and Si both turned to follow her, though Halling met John's gaze with a more relaxed smile. John wondered if Si was still mad at him for spilling that drink over his front.

John watched the Elite leaving, not another word from Teyla as she practically bolted out of the room.

"All crew at ease," Tyoosi abruptly shouted, which surely couldn't put anyone at ease. "Report to all duty stations, departure is imminent."

The crew shouted a confirming shout back and the ranks broke apart, everyone moving swiftly away. Not without a lot of curious glances at him and Ford though.

John met Tyoosi' assessing gaze again. The gaze lowered to John's P90 and then to his sidearm, and then over to Ford. Numfar glanced at Tyoosi, waiting patiently as the bay swiftly emptied.

The security man's gaze returned to meet John's. John decided he would deal with Tyoosi the same way he dealt with Sumner.

He smiled at him, all casual and friendly. No threat here.

Tyoosi frowned faintly, just a fraction, and John felt he had won something in it.

"You will have to undertake security checks and then we will begin your orientation of our laws and regulations, Tyoosi finally stated. "As well as familiarising yourself will all of our emergency procedures."

"Sure," John agreed with another smile, keeping his hands well away from the P90. "Whatever you need."

Tyoosi' expression shifted again – John had surprised him, another point for him.

Tyoosi turned and headed away, along the same route that Teyla and the other Elite had just taken towards the exit out of the shuttle bay. Numfar followed, glancing back at John with another smile.

"This is going to be fun," John said quietly to Ford as they followed, though a glance over his shoulder confirmed that two more of what were clearly security personnel were following them. At a respect distance though.

John shared a look with Ford as they strode after Tyoosi and Numfar.

It felt good to be back on the Sythus actually, and now Teyla had left, John felt more relaxed. Sure he was going to have to deal with her later, but for now he had some first impressions to make on the ship's Security Lead, and some intell to gather on the Sythus' security procedures.

As they moved out of the bay and into the familiar ship hallways, Ford nudged John's side subtly and chuckled quietly. "Numfar!" The kid sniggered at the unfortunate name.

John had to smile back, and for what he suspected was going to be the first of many occasions, he was desperately glad he hadn't been forced to bring McKay with him.

Better the scientist goes fishing with Carson rather than upset a load of short-fused Elite warriors. McKay could probably end this contract just as quickly as John had formed it!

000000  
TBC


	23. Reorientation

00000

**Chapter 23 – Reorientation  
**

The soft buzzing disturbed Ladon gently from his sleep. With practiced ease he silenced the alarm with a muttered code word. Silence fell, but the metallic blind across the room began to lift, letting in the early morning light. Even to this day it still felt unnatural to him to have sunlight on his face at the start of the day. He preferred the deep darkness of his bedroom, more akin to his early years living below ground.

With a second separate muttered command, he halted the rise of the blind, but its purpose had been fulfilled – he was waking.

The bed was warm though, the pillow beneath his ear soft and giving; as was the warm naked body lying partly across him. Dislodging Sora's arm and leg off him, he sat up into the shaft of sunrise. It was still very early, the sunlight not yet at full strength, but it was enough for his brain to begin working on the start of a new day. He was used to working all times of the day due to his many years working experiments in the labs, and with his current duties also including Government work, it was only by rising early that he still had time to work in the labs.

He rubbed a hand through his hair and glanced over Sora's naked backside beside him. The sheets had been dislodged from her, her overly pale skin seeming to glow in the early light. The length of her spine formed a long sweeping line that made him recall his taking of her last night. She liked him behind her and he liked the simplicity of the sexual act with her – release and her adoration. Not so many years ago she had looked up at Kolya with those loyal eyes, worshipping him as the military leader her own father, Tyrus, had never really accomplished. Kolya away, she had looked to quickly pledge her loyalty to Ladon, and soon enough the offer had turned to more. She was the best of the ideal of Genii women– loyal, strong-willed, wily, and an excellent combative fighter. She liked things rough, liked to be slapped across her backside, to be pinned down and demanded an ongoing stamina, the results of which he could feel in his back and hips.

Swinging his legs off the side of his bed, he rubbed his hand through his hair again and glanced over the tiny data screen beside his bed. All the sensors were as expected; no one had attempted to enter his home through the night, not that he wouldn't have been alerted at the time if someone had tried.

Getting up with a creak from his joints, he brushed a hand over his alert manhood, still faintly sticky from last night. Wandering out of his bedroom into the small washroom, he stroked the thick flesh as was his morning ritual. It did not take long, last night's activities providing fresh material to use.

He stepped into the wash cubicle, the pleasurable warmth of his release easing through his body. The water was set to his preferred morning temperature; just short of ice. It shot his heart and lungs out of their sleepy softness and he felt a renewed pleasure at feeling of his body becoming alert.

His mind was almost clear once he stopped the water and triggered the dry air. He turned in the rushing noise of the dry air, stretching his neck and shoulders as his skin and hair dried.

He stepped out dry enough and reached for the revealed slot in which his day's clothes were ready prepared for him. He slid the uniform on with practiced ease, his eyes straying to the entrance to the bedroom where Sora still slept. He felt a moment's deep satisfaction that she was exhausted enough to still be sleeping.

Dressed, he moved downstairs to his kitchen, the sensor he touched on the way down deactivating the way whilst simultaneously activating the cooking devices in the kitchen. As he reached the base of the stairs he could already hear the water for his morning tea boiling and the beginnings of his morning meal cooking.

He tapped awake his main display screen as he pulled out a chair to sit down. As usual he had a plethora of messages waiting for him. Most of them were already filed into appropriate files for him – some from the lab, some family and most of them Government related. None of them looked immediately urgent, so he called up the news alerts as he sat down at the small table beside the screen. He reached back to collect up his hot fresh cup of tea as he ran his eyes over what had been occurring in the Genii Confederation. After that he would look at Alliance news and-

A red light triggered to the side of the screen moments before the buzz at his front door requested entrance.

Knowing there were few who would be up so early, he called up his security feed from outside his front door. It was Tyrus.

Almost certain the man remained either unaware of Sora's visits with Ladon, or uncaring if he did, Ladon assumed this was an urgent political matter. A brief study of Tyrus face as Ladon triggered open the lock told him something worrying had occurred. Why else be here so early?

The door opened down the tiny corridor outside the kitchen. "In here, Tyrus," he called loudly to his colleague, whilst simultaneously warning Sora upstairs – if she was finally awake.

Tyrus appeared in the doorway, his shoulders tight and raised, as they so often were. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Ladon asked as he sipped at his tea, the stimulating herb clearly going to be needed this morning.

"Maloo failed," Tyrus reported.

He had not expected that to be the concerning news. "How so?"

"Elite Emmagan did not select him," Tyrus explained. "The Confederation has lost the chance to ally themselves with the Elite."

Ladon sipped at his tea again, his mind swiftly working. "Yes, but in doing so Cowen will appear weakened. This supports our cause. We can use this."

"Kolya will not be pleased. We promised him this contract in return for his not disrupting the wedding."

The deal had not been so openly agreed. They had simply suggested to Kolya that attempting to assassinate Atlantis' Major Sheppard at the event, if he had been considering it, would not only anger the Elite but would damage the chances for the Genii to enter into a contract with the Elite. They had still lost that chance now, but no doubt Emmagan would have offered some contracts of some sort in payment to Maloo for not selecting him.

"Maloo will have been offered contracts, perhaps even with the Elite, of some descriptions, it is not that concerning. It may even damage Cowen's-"

"You do not understand," Tyrus interrupted, his agitated state sometimes very trying. "The competition who Emmagan selected was Major Sheppard."

Ladon froze in sipping his hot drink. "Sheppard?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yes, the marriage has been confirmed and our contact reports that the Major is already now aboard the Sythus on way to the Outer Lantana battle with the Elite."

Truly surprised by the turn of events, which was unusual for Ladon since he was rather good at predicting the actions of others, he turned his mind to the new situation.

"Why would she choose him?" He asked, voicing the inner questions. "Atlantis is not Alliance, the trade would be less, the political ties less secure."

"She apparently stated that it was designed to best unite all against the Wraith."

A clever move for the Elite. The Elite had been pushing the Military Council in certain matters, moving in ways that suggested to Ladon that they were scheming a way of attacking the Wraith more decisively. His theory had been gradually gaining ground as he read of the still strangely continuing battle at Outer Lantana. Why was it taking so long? Why were the Elite not committing all their forces until now?

Now to learn that the Elite had contracted with Atlantis.

"For the viral weapon against the Wraith perhaps," he considered for Tyrus' benefit.

Tyrus angled his head as he considered it. "Perhaps, what little we know if it suggests it is far further along than our own research."

If the Elite obtained the viral weapon and developed it further, perhaps the extinction of the Wraith could occur sooner than ever expected. That fact would concern Kolya, but not as much as the fact that it had been Major Sheppard who had beaten Maloo's offering.

"We need to impress on Kolya that now more than ever it is vital not to kill Major Sheppard," he considered.

"He will not listen."

"He has to, we cannot risk angering the Elite," Ladon insisted. "We need to contact him, tell him that this has been seen as a vital defeat for Cowen. Make him see that this suits us."

Tyrus nodded.

"Make sure your contact outlines everything Emmagan offered to Maloo in compensation, we need to be sure to have a part in it all." Tyrus nodded. "Kolya must see this as advantageous."

Tyrus nodded again, but looked less than convinced. "Hulte will not be pleased."

"The Ambassador's interests with Maloo do not interest me. He is to return to Athos very soon. We need Torren on our side, especially now Atlantis might influence the Elite against us."

"Torren does not like Cowen," Tyrus noted. It was hardly news, few did outside the military superiors in the Confederation. If Cowen had not been responsible for the Confederation's expansion and then its early membership of the Alliance, he would have been ousted years ago. Those old military colleagues of his now sat in the most powerful of positions and would not be easily knocked from their tall towers. They owned too many of the Genii battalions and ships. When the time came to remove Cowen it would need to be off world and with his closest at his side so as not to return. The trick was to find the opportunity.

"It may be that we need to accelerate matters faster than Kolya's timescale," Ladon considered and not for the first time. Not that Kolya had made his timescale all that clear. He had his own worryingly nefarious plans, which were beginning to damage the Genii as a whole just as much as they damaged Cowen's hold on power. The sooner they removed Cowen, the less damage would be made.

"He'll not be pleased," Tyrus noted the obvious once again.

"Once Cowen is gone, Kolya will not care."

"He may turn on you as his target."

Yes, he would. Even once Ladon gave the reins of power to Kolya, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be seen as a threat. At that point he would likely suffer a worrying accident. Which was one issue among many that he was juggling. The problem was that few could truly predict Kolya's actions. The man was a force unto himself and it seemed to Ladon that the man often changed his course simply because he was expected not to do so.

"We need to find where he is hiding," Ladon voiced.

"We only know of a few bases, and they remain abandoned. His people are loyal."

It went without saying that he and Tyrus, though technically working with Kolya, were not part of the fanatical battalion that Kolya ran outside the Alliance border. Only those who would literally die for Kolya were kept with him, kept alive in excommunication. Getting information from that group was next to impossible and Ladon had been very careful not to be seen even trying. But, they needed the information.

"What about Pyaban?" Tyrus suggested.

"We cannot trust the man not to trade our questions with Kolya," Ladon replied, having considered the idea before now. "We know he assists Kolya, as he does anyone who wishes to trade secrets with him. We need someone else, someone Kolya has no intell on and who has their own interests in finding him."

The answer was obvious, but it would be difficult.

Tyrus frowned from his place stood in the doorway. "Then who?"

Ladon sipped his tea. "There's only one source, not that they might know anything now, but in the future..."

"Who?"

"Atlantis," Sora's voice drifted into the room. Ladon's eyes snapped to her, to see that she was fully dressed in her uniform and her hair was perfectly tidy, as if she had risen at her home and walked here. She approached behind her father's shoulder, appearing to have arrived down the corridor from the front door. "You should make sure the door is closed behind you, Father."

Tyrus frowned back over his shoulder towards the door, but quickly returned his attention to Ladon. "You cannot mean Atlantis. We cannot risk speaking with them. If Kolya finds out-"

"He won't," Ladon interrupted him, feeling Sora's eyes on him. "We will do so through the Hulte, through Torren of Athos."

"This is very risky," Tyrus muttered.

"They are the best placed to locate his position outside of Alliance space. And if we play it right, setting up a secret line of communication with them, then perhaps at the time we need it most, we can set Atlantis upon Kolya."

Sora smiled wickedly and Tyrus frowned worriedly.

"We will have to time matters just right," Tyrus considered.

Ladon smiled at the new plan as he set down his tea and reached round to the small cooking device that had been keeping his morning stew warm. The scent of the thick porridge filled the small kitchen as he set it down in front of him.

"Hulte is visit Athos as soon as he can, to heal over Maloo's rejection, and make sure the message is sent to Atlantis that there are parties who know about Kolya and are looking for him. That we are prepared to share information if they are as well."

"How can you be so sure Torren will play to this tune?" Sora asked, her arms crossed and one hip set against the doorframe so as to appear indifferent.

"Because he has a shiny new contract with Atlantis and he wants to keep it. The trade and friendships he's going to form because of the marriage are limitless. If he can help Atlantis, he will. He'll want to keep his new son by marriage not only happy, but alive and well so that the contract continues."

Tyrus was nodding now. "I will speak with Hulte before the start of first assembly, have him visit Athos."

"Good," Ladon replied as he chewed on his first mouthful of the day's food. "The sooner we begin this, the better. I have a feeling that Kolya will alter his timescale yet again once he hears of Major Sheppard's latest escapade."

Escapades that were making Ladon's life that little bit harder, but might also give him the opportunity, should the threat arise, to have Kolya removed at the most appropriate time, off world, and by non-Genii. Though the ultimate aim of the underground was to topple Cowen from power, with each day it was becoming more apparent to Ladon that perhaps the same was going to have to be done with Kolya.

There was no point in removing one harsh dictator to replace him with another more brutal. And brutality was fast become Kolya's style, if not physically then in his methods to damage Cowen which were now damaging the Genii themselves as well.

Ladon would not let that happen.

And if in taking out both men would put himself in power to remain there, then all the better.

000000

Orientation had started very literally with a tour of about four floors of the Sythus. Numfar introduced each area – labs, storage, several different barracks, weapons lockers, with narration of basic facts as they went. John didn't take it all in, but apparently it was all listed in the personalised electronic pads he and Ford had been given. The pad's memories held maps of each floor of the ship, with some areas labelled only as 'Restricted'. There were a lot of those.

The pads held reams of information, all of which John was going to have to sit down and properly read, as they included identifying different department crews within the Sythus, working hours, eating hours, emergency drills, Alliance protocols, and ship protocols. It also included details of the Alliance and different worlds and cultures, with reference to how to identify peoples by their clothing and cultural styles.

Someone had made sure that everything he and Ford could ever need, which wasn't restricted information, was available for them in their own personalised pads.

Numfar had been a good source of information as well so far, playing the role of tour guide. Walking the ship's levels that he hadn't seen before on his previous visits, meant that John was building up quite a complete picture of the ship. This was important, because if something happened onboard, he and Ford needed to know how to get hold of weapons and find their to the shuttles and escape pods were – if the ship had escape pods. He frowned down at his pad, wondering what search he could type in that would find escape pods. The English translation of the Alliance text was pretty good, but there were obvious words that weren't right. He and Teyla had used to laugh at some of them, and she had pointed out each time that by correcting the translation himself on the Alliance pads, it would build up a more detailed and accurate translation in the future. Still, he had no idea what the crew would call an escape pod. Maybe he could just try "escape"...

"These areas are for exercise, sparring, physical training, and weapons training," Numfar announced as he led them past more open doorways, through which John could see various gym equipment, a good number of people working out on mats, and climbing ropes and pull up bars at the far end.

"You are permitted to use any of these rooms at any time of the day or night, provided an Elite warrior is not using them," Numfar said as he led them round a corner and through two doors into the one gym that John recognised - the large training room where he had previously sparred with Si. John recognised the room easily enough because the whole of the left wall was coated in racks of weapons. He could practically feel Ford's excitement next to him.

"However, you are not permitted to use any weaponry without direct supervision by a designated high level authority with you each and every time," Numfar instructed formally and definitively.

"How about practicing with our own?" Ford asked.

Numfar glanced over to Tyoosi, who had remained quiet throughout the tour so far. Sizing them up still. Tyoosi had checked over the P90s and sidearms during the brief initial security check of their bags and tack vests. Tyoosi had provided them with a detailed explanation about how much weaponry they could carry, which was two guns and two knives each, but their C4 had been confiscated from their tac vests. John hadn't protested. He was pretty certain Sumner wasn't going to be this relaxed about the weapons Teyla and another Elite might bring with them to Atlantis during their visits.

"Only with permission and supervision," Numfar replied without Tyoosi' prompting.

"Will we get a chance to try out some of your weapons?" Ford asked. He'd been full of questions so far, which John had let him ask all he wanted, leaving John to absorb the answers and watch how Numfar and Tyoosi reacted. So far Numfar had become more relaxed with them, appearing to appreciate Ford's questions, while Tyoosi had remained quiet.

"There may be a chance," Numfar conceded, "especially during your training."

"Cool," Ford replied with a smile.

Numfar smiled back at him as he led them back out the door and down another corridor towards the familiar doors of the ship's elevator/transporters.

"The next level up will take us to the Hydroponics Bay," Numfar stated as they piled into the small space of the elevator. It was a particularly small space with Ford, Numfar, Tyoosi, and the two security guards who were still their shadows on this orientating trip.

"Remember that all levels can be reached by the emergency ladders." Numfar reminded them again, as he had each time they had used the elevators. "They are accessed through the blue spiral symbol on the hatchways usually to the left of the transport's doors. Remember to make way always for Elite using the ladders as a priority," Numfar repeated again.

The doors opened and the smell of fresh moist air rushed in, easing the smell of standing with five others in such close proximity. The smell of gun oil and dried sweat had been a bit overwhelming on the gym level. Here though, the fresh air produced by the Hydroponics Bay was a relief.

Numfar led the way forward, Tyoosi at his side, through a short lobby and into the amazing sight of the forest. John remembered this place well. He glanced around in case Ketra might be around, but no lizard came bounding towards him. Shame.

"...recycled, waste materials are absorbed and thereby recycled," Numfar was saying as he led them down a path towards the trees, shrubs and grass on either side. "All foods used are grown in here, either in the fields, glass houses, or from the orchards. There are dedicated teams of gardeners who work tirelessly to manage all of this, and they are to be given upmost respect at all times. You are to follow their instructions in this space. Several insect and butterflies species are bred here for the pollination of different plants and for the making of foodstuffs. None of them are poisonous and are not to be damaged or killed."

"How big is the Bay?" Ford asked looking at his pad. "It looks like it fills this entire level."

"The Hydroponics level is three times the height of other floors and the vegetation does indeed fill most of the level," Numfar replied.

They had walked through the tallest of trees, and were now heading down a path that had forked to the right at a junction. John knew this route, because it was the one that Teyla used to collect Ketra from her play time in the bay.

"You are permitted to visit this space at any time, day or night cycles," Numfar reported as he led them around an orchard and past several narrow fields, full of waving grain. "There are rain cycles in different areas of the Bay each day. Keep your information pad with you at all times and it will emit a warning sound prior to the start of the rainfall if it detects it is within a watering area. Otherwise, there are lights directly above that will flash, but it is easy to miss them. However, there are sheltered areas throughout the bay."

Past the fields, Numfar stopped at the edge of a stretch of grass that looked like a nice park, complete with flowerbeds. There was an attempt to landscape the park a little, with a couple of metal benches set up higher ground, which probably provided a good view of the other side of the rise.

"Remember that even in the Bay, one must always give priority and space to any Elite warrior," Numfar repeated, as he had with almost everywhere else he had taken them.

"Occasionally there are organised sporting events in the Bay, but only with prior permission and agreement by the gardeners. Almost everything in the Bay, including the flowering plants, have a functional use either as food or as part of the biodiversity that is vital for the productive running of the Bay as a whole."

John nodded. Don't crush the flowers or cut anything down; check.

"Do all the Alliance ships have bays like this?" Ford asked Numfar.

"All Elite ships have them, as long as they are large enough. As regards the rest of the Alliance Fleet, the use of Hydroponics Bays is increasing," Numfar replied. "Research has shown that not only is the circulating air of higher quality and the waste products reduced on such ships, but incidents of illness have also decreased."

Interesting.

A distant sound caught John's attention, but it was gone before he was sure what it had been. One of the security guards was looking around though, her attention sharp as she scanned the park space.

"As described in your emergency protocols," Numfar continued, "if for any reason you are unable to exit the ship in an emergency, this Bay is a gathering place. Also in the event of the ship being boarded, the Bay is the place for you to convene."

"Not fight back?" John asked surprised.

"You are considered high priority crew, below the Elite that is," Numfar replied. "Therefore you are not expected to fight in such situations. In such circumstances you are to follow all orders, and if those orders are to come to this bay, then you are to follow those orders."

Yeah, because that's how the Elite had worked with him the past. He'd chipped in and helped on the Hastos as needed. There was no way he was going to come and hide in a park while Teyla and the others fought off Wraith.

There was a loud rustle of undergrowth off to the right, and John glanced round to see what looked like a goat explode out of the shrubbery and bound across the grass.

"What the-?" Ford asked as they watched the goat bound about as if it was the happiest creature alive.

At which point another creature burst out of the shrubs after it – a creature that John recognised instantly. Ketra.

However, the guards around John reacted differently, tensing up and their hands dropped to the stunners on their hips.

"Please remain calm around the animals," Numfar told them, but John heard the nervousness in his voice.

Ketra turned at his voice, her body thick with muscle and her smooth skin shifting from silver to a cooler colour. She tilted her head to one side with interest as she stared at them.

The goat let out a loud bleat, presumably towards Ketra, but Ketra kept her attention directed towards them. The guards remained tense and Numfar was backing away slowly. Admittedly Ketra looked huge and powerful stood in the park, her claws and teeth seeming massive in comparison to her body, but it was Ketra.

Realising he was stood mostly behind Ford and that Ketra probably couldn't see him, John stepped to the side, and Ketra instantly focused her attention on him.

She broke into a sudden excited scamper towards him.

The security guards began pulling out their stunners, not comfortable apparently with having a muscular Wraith killing lizard running at them.

John held out his hands to the guards quickly. "It's okay," he reassured them. "She's fine, she knows me."

He barely had the words out before Ketra bolted past Ford, her long tail sweeping back and forth, almost taking out Numfar. As she reached John she shoved her shoulder and side against his legs and emitted her happy bubbly noises.

"Hey, Girl," John greeted the big pet as he ran his hands over her thick shoulders, which now reached up to mid thigh, and scratched around her shoulder joints. "How you doing?"

Ketra rubbed her head against him, almost pushing him over, but he was used to the move. He set his hands to her ears instead, scratching around the big pointed ears and Ketra's eyes slid shut with pleasure.

He looked over at Ford, who had his mouth open and one hand on his P90.

"She's okay," John assured him, "just don't make any sudden movements." He looked back down at Ketra as he ran one hand over the top of her warm smooth head. "Don't worry about him, Ketra, he's alright."

Ketra's orange eyes slid to Ford, but back to John and shut again as he scratched under her chin.

"It's a dinosaur or something," Ford exclaimed.

"I kind of think of her as a dragon," John told him as Ketra rubbed her head against his side again, the rattle of her neck spines sounding like a rainstick.

"She's right out of Jurassic Park," Ford muttered as he edged closer.

Ketra glanced towards Ford with vague suspicion.

"Hey, Ketra, he's okay," John told her again, reaching out and patting Ford on the shoulder so she could see Ford was a friend of his.

Ketra frowned at Ford and quickly looked away back to John and did another full head and neck rub up against him so that he had to brace himself.

At which point he remembered the Sythus security and looked round to see the two security guards and Numfar were stood together some distance away, their eyes wide like he'd charmed a deadly snake or something.

Well, if it won him some points with the Sythus crew, why not.

Tyoosi hadn't run away though, and stepped forward towards them. Ketra sniffed in his direction with recognition and Tyoosi gently and briefly ran a hand over the dragon's head. His point made.

John met the man's eyes and watched as the man studied him closely. Though Tyoosi wasn't an Elite himself, he had to have some serious clout, being the ship's head of security. John guessed the guy was in his fifties, perhaps older, but his shoulders and arms were thick with lean muscle. John stood an inch taller than him, but the man's presence made him seem taller.

His shrewd eyes moved over to Ford, studying him, and then back to John. John kept quiet, sensing that this was important. If they were going to be on this ship a lot then they needed the Security Lead on their side. Clearly the man was deciding on whether he was on their side.

"Everyone on this ship serves a purpose," Tyoosi stated. "Everyone on this ship is the best at what they do, and we are all here to serve the Elite, so that we can protect those who can't protect themselves. It is a duty that we all take very seriously on this ship."

John nodded, believing the guy. "We respect that," he replied honestly.

"I can see that you are both military men, both seen your own battles," Tyoosi continued. "I am trusting that you both understand that you too are here on this ship to fight the same battle. This is not a place for politicians with soft hands, unwilling to get those hands dirty. This is a ship of _purpose_ and everyone mucks in. Below the Elite, we are all equal in that duty. _Everyone_ on this ship is to be respected."

"Yes, Sir," John found himself agreeing.

"Sir," Ford agreed, stood at sharp attention, his hands behind his back as if on parade.

Ketra had sat down at John's side, her head under his hand, the warmth of her body leant against his leg oddly reassuring. Things might be over between him and Teyla, but it seemed this cute, powerful pet of hers still liked him.

And he kind of got the impression that Tyoosi was accepting them too.

"Despite how things might appear, we're not politicians," John told him, honestly and directly. "We're here because our people need us to, for our alliance, and because we'll do whatever we can to help fight the Wraith. You want us to pitch in, clean toilets, carry a weapon, or serve food in the canteen, we'll do it."

Tyoosi' eyes narrowed slightly, but John saw that his upfront approach had been the right choice.

"We'll follow whatever protocols you want," John continued, "but we're here to help out too. We've not the kind to sit on the sidelines and not do anything."

"No, we're not, Sir," Ford agreed.

"But, while we're here, we're on your turf," John added. "We do what you say."

Tyoosi studied them for a second. "You're not mine to order around, but on this ship, you are my responsibility to a point. Given your history, and the Elite's respect for you and your people so far, I am willing to let you move around the ship freely with only one guard each for now, and we'll see where we go from there."

John nodded. "Thank you."

"You'll be expected to live like a member of the crew, doing just what you said. You'll be expected to attend the morning training sessions with your assigned group, and you'll be introduced to certain duties you can perform. I don't want any trouble for my crew, but likewise if you meet any trouble, you are to inform me immediately."

John understood the point; Tyoosi was warning them that he couldn't say how the crew would react to him and Ford, but also that he would look out for them. To a point.

"To be on this ship is a privilege and you should remember that," Tyoosi added, "but it is also the riskiest of places to be. Right now this ship is headed into a significant battle and I don't have time or inclination to babysit you."

"You don't have to," John promised. "We'll fit in around you, do what you need us to do."

Tyoosi nodded, those eyes still burrowing into John, but not as aggressively.

"Very well," Tyoosi agreed. "I will leave you in Numfar's hands to finish your orientation and take you to your late meal. I will see you tomorrow morning for your first training session. All the details are on your pads."

"Thanks," John replied immediately.

"Sir," Ford replied respectfully as Tyoosi headed away.

"Think the dinosaur won it for us," Ford whispered as they watched the man walk away.

"Her name's Ketra," John whispered back and Ketra bubbled happily at his side.

00000  
TBC


	24. Backed into A Corner

00000

**Chapter 24 – Backed Into A Corner**

Teyla glanced at the time displayed amid the many screens of the Central Station's main tactical display table. Frequently and obsessively checking the time had become an annoying habit today.

She was fast running out of time and excuses this evening to collect John and Lieutenant Ford and see to their quarters for the night. Tyoosi had reported in some hours ago that their orientation had proceeded well and that he was comfortable enough that each Lantean man need only be accompanied by one guard, if not with her. It was a clear and pleasing sign of acceptance from Tyoosi, who had to be happy with the men's presence on the ship. Even though Teyla and the other Elite trusted John, and had worked with Lieutenant Ford before now, it was Tyoosi' responsibility to see the ship's security and to protect its technical secrets. He was a highly valued and respected member of the Elite's staff and Teyla was grateful that Tyoosi was happy with John and Lieutenant Ford's presence.

In his report, Tyoosi had also mentioned his concern that John and Lieutenant Ford mesh successfully with the ship's crew, but Teyla was not worried. John had a way of endearing himself to people, and Lieutenant Ford seemed excited and open enough for the crew to likely accept him. Besides, they were guests, and John was now technically her husband.

She looked at the time again.

She had not ignored his presence on the ship so far this evening without good reason. The work she and the others had been engaged in for the last few hours was vital for the approaching battle...so why was she feeling uncomfortable and guilty.

It was probably her Athosian upbringing, demanding that she give all attention possible to guests. She was an Elite though, and John and Lieutenant Ford were now simply extended members of the crew. Well, perhaps not _simply_.

Movement across the large tactical display drew her focus back to her work.

More scan results were coming in.

Oneakka reached out a long pale arm and began searching through the data. She would have thought he would have had enough of data analysis after his day working on the Toshka and Dreamstation databases. He looked faintly tired, but not as tired as she felt inside.

Beside him, Si leant forward and began tapping in more data.

"This is interesting," Seifer uttered from the left end of the display table, and all eyes turned to him. "We've had a report in from the Fleet on the furthest edge of Lantana battle.

A battle that was spreading along the border, stretching their resources as the Wraith attempted to breach the border and slide in around behind the Fleet. Maintaining the balance of forceful engagement and still allowing the Wraith to commit forces had been a delicate balance for the Elite and the Fleet to achieve. The battle had to continue forcefully enough to convince the Wraith to keep committing their forces, but not so forceful as to actually break back the Wraith just yet.

The Elite's ultimate plan for that region of their border was very close to fruition and all eyes had been on the latest intell and scans of the Lantana and neighbouring regions. After all, Outer Lantana was on the edge of the most important target the Alliance had to date – the solar system that had been occupied by a growing number of Wraith and their Queens.

Before the first days of the Alliance resistance, the Wraith Queens had regularly fought between themselves, culling weaker Queens and disability each other's forces. In that way, the stronger Queens established and held their own feeding grounds and allowed their own drones and warriors to flourish. However, with the advance of the Alliance, the Queens and their Hives had begun uniting like never before...for the most part.

The Elite had in turn worked to cull all the Queens they could, working to disable the Wraith's ability to breed and to weaken their overall leadership. Once a Hive lost its Queen, its forces usually withdrew and gave up. And as the Elite had eliminated more and more Queens, more Hives and cruiser ships had been left without leadership. Unlike before, Queens were now engulfing lonely forces into their own, expanding their power and reach with the addition of new warriors and drones. The greatest example of this was the Wraith occupied solar system just beyond Outer Lantana. Several particularly powerful Queens had taken over that solar system a year or so ago, and had been working to solidify it as their own. News had gotten out it seemed, for lost Hives and cruisers had been flocking to the security and leadership that the Wraith system provided them. There they felt protected and were growing stronger.

The Elite referred to the area as the Nest system.

"A Hive heading to the Nest system?" Teyla guessed as she heard this news of a new Hive spotted in the area.

Seifer frowned at the data on this part of the display screens. "Seems to be heading that way, but it came in at a strange angle, as if from along our border, and it appears significantly damaged."

Seifer slid his data across the table to the larger central screens for them all to see the readings and images.

"It appears partly vented to space," Seifer added. "But, there are no discernible weapons readings on the damage."

"It is quite far from the Fleet," Si pointed out. "Readings will be unreliable."

However, Teyla could see why it had caught attention. There was a noticeable dent and buckling to the underside of the Hive in the images, and there appeared to be atmosphere still billowing out from one area.

"Do we have any reports of new engagements along the border from Lantana?" Oneakka asked, whilst he simultaneously ran a search to find the answer.

"Not that I've seen," Nalla put in from the right end of the table. "It is unusual damage to this Hive, and does not look like our work."

"Wraith versus Wraith?" Si suggested.

"It's unusual damage for them," Oneakka added, the results of his research having not reporting any intell on a local battle. None of the border probes had detected anything like a battle – however, they would have to go through the data more thoroughly to be sure.

"There is no sign of burning or charring around the damage," Nalla considered as she expanded the images and scans sent by the Fleet ship that had spotted the damaged Hive.

"Battle collision," Si concluded. It was true enough that physical collisions during a space battle were common enough.

"If so, it did well not to explode," Nalla noted. "Hives are partial to such reactions from their engine cores."

"The damage looks upwards," Seifer indicated the predicted vectors of the attack.

"The Hive must have come from further out from the border," Oneakka stated. "Jumped in close by and is limping past behind the battle."

"Another Hive to join the Nest," Teyla concluded and the others nodded.

"Only adding to our targets," Seifer added.

"The Fleet Commander in question has asked if the Hive should be engaged," Nalla reported. "I suggest they keep the line and simply observe the new Hive as best they can."

They all nodded and Nalla set about relaying the orders out to The Fleet.

"It won't be much of a threat even once it's in the Nest," Oneakka stated with clear satisfaction.

Teyla had to agree, but she glanced away to the displayed time again.

She should really go and collect John...or at least check in with him and Lieutenant Ford...it was expected of her.

And she wasn't going to be so weak as to hide from John.

"I'll run searches of the local border probes and see if I can trace back where the Hive came from," Seifer said as he settled back down in his favoured chair at the end of the display table.

"I shall turn in," Nalla replied, her rotation over for the day.

Si nodded beside her. "The latest probe's data burst should have arrived by our morning meeting. The hour is late, we should all turn in."

"Expect me," Seifer muttered. "Working away hard up here."

"Do you not want to be alone?" Nalla asked with a smile.

"We could send up the goat," Oneakka suggested and Teyla had to control her smile. It was fast becoming known that Seifer was frightened of the goat.

Seifer glared at them. "I'll be fine."

Nalla chuckled lightly as she turned away from the table, offering good night wishes, Si leaving with her. Not for the first time did Teyla wonder what it must be like for Nalla to sense the feelings of those around her. It was the most useful of gifts, but difficult to bear as well. However, Teyla did not need advanced powers to see that John was still very angry with her. That anger would die with time, she hoped, for they had both made this decision to marry for very strong political reasons.

He would soon settle into the routine of the ship, and they would actually have little contact while he was on the ship. That would make matters easier, and she could temper her own feelings to the set times that she would meet with him.

How had she ended up in this position? Not so long ago she would have delighted in his presence here, would have loved to integrate him into her life on the Sythus. But, she had made her decision to distance herself from John, and to the point of needing to hurt him through ending their affair to do so. His responding anger and disrespect had surprised her, but so had her own anger towards him. The way he had behaved, as if he were saving her with this marriage...well, he needed more from her in this marriage more than she needed from him.

If he was angry about that, as well at her for having ended their relationship, then he would have to deal with it. She had work to accomplish.

Which she had focused on over and above her duty to see to John's care for the night.

She was hiding and putting off the inevitable tense confrontation with him. The problem was that she feared once again losing her temper with him if he pushed her, as she had done back in that corridor in Tjaru. She still felt deeply ashamed at her loss of control, especially in front of Father.

She did not like who she had become in John's presence, but it only served to constantly remind her why she needed emotional distance from him. He got too easily under her skin.

She had to hope that they could move beyond angry words and petty disagreements, and find a workable way to interact. The contract between their peoples was important, the message of cooperation vital for the rest of the Alliance, and their marriage was the linchpin of that display. She had to make this work in the best way she could, and not let her weaknesses become any worse than they already had.

With a determined sigh, she turned from the display table. She would not put off her duty any longer – she was an Elite and so could handle a simple meeting.

She strode out the nearest exit from Central Station, vaguely aware that she had not said anything to Seifer or Oneakka at her departure. They were hard at work anyway, and neither cared about such social niceties. She had to get this over and done with for the night.

It was only when she was partway down the encircling outer corridor outside the Central Station that she registered the heavy steps behind her.

She looked over her shoulder and was surprised to see Oneakka following her. He lengthened his stride and fell into step with her. "I didn't welcome Sheppard onboard," he stated as explanation, but Teyla instantly suspected that he had other motives.

Why was it that everyone was able to see through her at the moment? Did she appear so obviously rattled by the situation with John? Somewhat embarrassed and annoyed at that fact, she nonetheless felt grateful for Oneakka's company. Having him by her side would help keep some professionalism to the upcoming meeting.

"Very well," she replied. "How goes your search of the Toshka database?" She asked, not having had the time to read his initial report earlier.

"Good," Oneakka replied simply.

She nodded. "Anything of use yet?" She pushed.

"Plenty of information, just finding a way to use it," he replied as they reached the level's transport.

Teyla pressed the door control and it took a few moments before the doors slid open. "How is Madesh settling in?" She asked next as they stepped inside and turned towards the closing doors. "I regret I have not taken time to speak with him."

"You've been busy," Oneakka replied. "He's fine."

Teyla nodded.

"Working well with Seeal," Oneakka added.

Teyla looked round at him, grateful for a topic of conversation. "I suppose there is some common ground between them."

The transport doors slid open revealing the new floor's corridor beyond. The latest update from security, sent to her over an hour ago, had stated that John and Lieutenant Ford would remain in the canteen. No one would make any decisions on where John and the Lieutenant should be housed without her initial input. She had already checked the computer and seen that there were several free barrack beds, and one barrack had two beds next to each other. She would collect the two Lanteans, walk them to the barracks and depart. It would be as simple as that.

Yet her heart was noticeably beating faster in her chest as she moved down the corridor, and took the last turn that would bring her to the canteen doorway. John would have finished his Late Meal some time ago – she suspected he would be bored waiting in there. Probably further annoyed with her for leaving him there so long.

Well, he would to curtail his behaviour in front of the security guards and Oneakka.

Except, as she approached the open canteen doorway, she could hear cheerful voices. Her traitorous ears immediately picked John's voice out of the mix with horrid efficiency.

She turned into the doorway to see a full table to the left. John was sat with Lieutenant Ford on the far side of the table, Tyoosi surprisingly present across from them, Numfar to his side and two other security members sat with them. They appeared in surprising high spirits. Her eyes ran over John, measuring his body language in an instant. He was smiling at whatever it was one guard was describing to the group.

It was foolish, but she felt oddly annoyed with John for appearing so relaxed and already at ease with some of the crew. It was typical of him, however, as she had already predicted, but it foolishly annoyed her as much as it impressed her.

"I've never landed a ship like the Hastos and never quite like that," John said back to the guard, not having noticed her arrival yet.

"It was in one piece," Numfar replied. "As were all inside."

"Elite ships are built to last, even to their end," Tyoosi stated looking round having sensed her and Oneakka's quiet arrival. Tyoosi instantly rose up from his seat, as did all the guards. They all bowed their heads, seeming oddly uncomfortably at having been caught enjoying the two new men's company.

Teyla approached the table, aware that John had not risen up from his seat, and she could feel his eyes on her. The security personnel moved away, scurrying away as if a predator had entered the room.

She wondered if perhaps her annoyance was showing more than she meant it to as she stopped alongside Tyoosi. The Security Lead bowed his head, not at all uncomfortable with her presence.

"Sheppard," Oneakka greeted John as he moved towards the table. "Still alive."

"Honoured Elite," John replied very formally, finally rising up from his seat with a smile. "For now," he added.

"I might come and see your training session tomorrow," Oneakka threatened with an evil grin.

Teyla did not miss the worried glance exchanged between the two nearby guards. Oneakka was infamous for randomly turning up during training sessions on the ship or back at the Training Facility. He usually made the visits if he was bored or frustrated by something, looking to unleash some of his mood in pushing those training to their limits. It was good to keep the crew on their toes, and as battle ready as only Oneakka could engender, but she did feel a fraction of sympathy for John.

"Great," John replied with feeling, not even trying to hide his concern at the prospect.

Oneakka chuckled as he crossed his arms.

"You've met Lieutenant Ford before," John gestured to the Lieutenant beside him. Teyla knew Lieutenant Ford had met Oneakka before, and the nervous way he bobbed his head respectfully to Oneakka told her that he remembered him all too well. "Ford's an expert in a lot Earth weaponry," John added on his teammate's behalf.

Oneakka pulled a faintly interested expression. "Bring any with you?"

"Just the very basics we thought we would be allowed to bring," John replied, gesturing to where the two boxy earth firearms were set aside behind their seats.

"I brought a flashbang," Lieutenant volunteered quickly, only to redden somewhat. John nodded with an amused frown at his colleague.

"And some other bits and pieces," John covered up for the younger man.

"You're going to be on the ship a lot now, Sheppard," Oneakka continued, ignoring the Lieutenant's embarrassment. "We need to train you on what we've got."

John would not have received a more obvious sign of acceptance from Oneakka, and Teyla noticed Tyoosi make a mental note of the comment. Teyla felt a rush of gratitude towards Oneakka.

"Maybe you could come to Atlantis," John suggested to Oneakka. "See the city."

"Maybe," Oneakka conceded.

"Glad you're okay after that run with that Queen," John added.

"Never stronger," Oneakka replied instantly. "Your people get anything from the Wraith bodies we gave you?"

"Some," John replied. "Something about how that new stunning weapon cuts the connection between their brains and bodies." Teyla was impressed with those of Atlantis at having correctly identified that from the Wraith autopsies. "I think Doctor Beckett was hoping to get a look at the actual weapon that it did at some point."

Oneakka's gaze moved to Teyla and she exchanged a considering expression with him.

"You know, now we're all cosy allies and all," John added with a persuading hopeful smile.

She wondered if the term "cosy" had been somewhat directed towards her. Or was she being overly sensitive?

"We'll see," Oneakka replied simply. "I have some specs on file," he then added, surprising Teyla slightly. Such decisions should have full Elite agreement, though, she supposed this situation was going to become normal for her – deciding and facilitating what intell was exchanged with Atlantis.

"Great," John smiled with real feeling.

His gaze had not met hers since she had entered, not that she had been overly keen to meet his gaze, but that he was avoiding hers annoyed her somewhat.

Silence fell over the group for a moment.

"Honoured Elite," Tyoosi stated, "I would appreciate if we could arrange a meeting this evening before tomorrow's morning briefing, to run over the procedural changes." Teyla nodded again. The usual evening meeting with Tyoosi had been set aside for the Elite to work on the data from Outer Lantana and the Nest system.

"Of course," Teyla agreed.

"I shall go prepare my reports and meet with you at your convenience," Tyoosi announced. He turned, inclined his head to John and Lieutenant Ford, and then left. The two security guards remained stood back, at attention and alert.

Left in charge of the next decisions, Teyla looked over Lieutenant Ford and John, aware of their full packs and weapons set on the floor behind them.

"I am sure you will settle well into the ship," she stated somewhat weakly. "We are currently on our way to a battle zone and as such we will be occupied much of the time."

"Sure," John replied. "Don't let us get in your way."

The words had been agreeable, his tone casual and relaxed, but she thought she heard something more in it. That same bitter annoyed edge he had used during the trip to the Sythus from the Athosian Portal.

"This battle will be decisive for both the Alliance and even Atlantis at its distance," she told him, needing to make the point clear. She was not hiding from him – she simply had important work to do.

"We've been watching it," John replied quickly.

"Watching it?" Oneakka asked darkly.

"Assuming we're heading toward that big ongoing battle you've been having with the Wraith. We have some pretty powerful long range scanners in the city," John replied, his eyes on Oneakka. "We've been helping to evacuate planets our side of the fight." By which he meant those planets not protected by the Alliance.

"The Wraith have been culling all round that region," Lieutenant Ford added. "We've managed to help whole settlements evacuate, but sometimes we get there too late and they've been completely wiped clean."

"Wiped clean?" Oneakka asked.

"Not even any bodies left," the younger man replied.

"But buildings left standing?" Oneakka pushed. It was not all that common, and suggested that the Wraith were stocking up feeding vessels to supply their forces. To have emptied entire settlements of humans to put into hibernation for the feeding of the troops suggested that the Wraith were indeed in need at the battle zone or in the Nest system.

"Most of them," Lieutenant Ford confirmed.

Already benefit was being gained by communicating with Atlantis, even with such small details. However, Teyla knew from experience that it was sometimes the smallest seemingly insignificant piece of information that could help turn a battle. Every single piece of data was important and worthy of study.

Such as that damaged Hive ship, the origin and source of its damage still unknown.

"Thank you for the information," Teyla told them, pleased that things were nice and professional and calm. "However, it is time that you are given barracks for your stay."

Oneakka shifted next to her, drawing her attention to him.

"He can't sleep in the barracks," Oneakka stated pointing at John.

"Why not?" Teyla asked, feeling thrown.

"He's your husband now," Oneakka clarified, and instantly she realised his point. She had forgotten about this part of the marriage contract, or rather perhaps had chosen to ignore it and assume everyone else would ignore it as well.

"You're supposed to have adjoining quarters," Oneakka clarified.

"We do not have any adjoining quarters on the Sythus," Teyla reminded him, making the point clear for John. "I made it clear in the marriage contract that living a military life would require alterations to the standard usual Political Marriage contract."

"I'm almost certain that isn't a part that's altered," Oneakka pushed.

Teyla turned to him, frowning up at the man. When had Oneakka paid any interest in what was to be expected? Of all the Elite, he would be the most likely to do the very opposite of what was expected of him.

"That's why it says 'marriage' in the title," Oneakka continued, his expression seeming serious. "The contract has to be followed or it could be challenged. That's why they're here, isn't it?" He asked indicating John and Lieutenant Ford.

Again Teyla frowned up at him. "When has anything like this been important to you?" She challenged Oneakka.

"It's important for the Elite," Oneakka replied.

"It hardly matters where he sleeps."

"I'm still in the room," John interjected, moving closer to them and holding up an electronic pad. "And looking through the contract, it does say we have to have adjoining quarters."

Teyla looked from the pad to his face and saw the determination in his eyes. He was purposefully going to hold to the letter of the contract, just to make matters difficult for her.

"My quarters do not allow for an adjoining space," she explained to him. He should know that anyway, since he had slept on the floor of her living space during his first visit to the ship. "The main residence levels are full and no adaptations can be made."

"In that case," John replied looking down at the contract on his pad, "it says here I have to sleep in your room."

She frowned at him and reached out for the pad, snatching it from his hand. However, the contract was displayed in his own language, which she could not read. She gave it back to him quickly and he took it with a smug smile.

She vaguely remembered something about sharing quarters in such situations, but it had been part of the standard Political Marriage contract wording that she had not paid much attention to, allowing Father to deal with it. She should have read the contract more thoroughly, but then she had known that Maloo would never have suggested keeping to such strict rules as to force his presence on an Elite in such a way.

John however...

"He can't sleep in the barracks," Oneakka reiterated.

"Why not?" She challenged. "Why does that in any way degrade him or the crew?"

"He's a political figure."

"This is a military ship and as such everyone is expected to put up with the basics of life," she argued.

"Then you sleep in the barracks with him."

Teyla glared up at Oneakka's pale complexion and dark tattoos. A new suspicion made her narrow her eyes at her colleague and friend.

"It also says I should have a proper bed," John added in, looking up from the contract on his pad, "not one of those boxes on the floor like last time."

"We do not have any spare 'proper' beds," she argued, though in truth she was not sure if that was the case.

"Then I'll sleep on one of your couches until you get one," John replied instantly. "They're pretty big." He smiled victoriously.

He had made the point to expose his personal knowledge of her quarters, in front of the guards and Numfar, as well as in front of Oneakka. He was trying to embarrass her and get his own way.

Why he would want to push matters this way, so as to force them to share quarters, made little sense to her. Except, if he was purposefully trying to interfere in her daily life as much as possible, to insert himself in her life after she had told him she wanted him out of it.

Yes, that had to be it.

She held his gaze, annoyed at him, but making him see that she was calm and in no way rattled by his behaviour in front of others.

"Surely you would be more comfortable in a proper bed in the barracks," she replied logically.

"Hey, got to do what the contract says," John replied, holding up the pad again and pointing at it with his free hand. "After all that's why we're doing this, isn't it? All nice and political."

She glared at him. He looked so smugly pleased with himself.

"There might be spare beds in storage," Oneakka uttered unhelpfully.

"It will have to be sorted later," Teyla replied, annoyed that she had clearly lost this battle. "For now though, we have to attend our meeting with Tyoosi. I will collect you later, _Husband_."

"That one will have to sleep in the barracks," Oneakka added though as he pointed at Lieutenant Ford. "With his flashbang."

Teyla glanced back round to the young Lieutenant, who was working to hide his embarrassment. She had forgotten about where the Lieutenant would sleep – well, he certainly was not going to sleep in her quarters as well!

"I'm supposed to be protecting you," the Lieutenant said to John.

"I'll be with an Elite," John told him. "What could go wrong?"

Lieutenant Ford pulled a face. "You know what happens when you say things like that."

"There is a barrack level one below my floor," Teyla noted. "You will be safe in there."

"I sleep in there. There's a free bunk near mine," Numfar offered from his place near the guards.

"Great," John announced with another one of those annoying smiles. "We're _all_ happy."

She worked very hard to keep a handle on her temper at that sarcastic comment.

"We have to meet with Tyoosi," she told him. "I trust you can keep out of trouble until I am free."

"Sure," John replied. "I can go visit with Ketra in the Hydroponics Bay again."

He had already met up with Ketra in the Bay? Teyla imagined that Ketra had been very pleased to see him, having a soft spot for him. Ketra had certainly picked up from her distressed sullen mood while on Athos. Teyla had asked a healer to look Ketra over as soon as they had come aboard, but the report had been that Ketra was in full good health. Perhaps she had simply missed running around the Hydroponics Bay

"Very well," she agreed. "I shall meet you in the Bay's park, but I cannot say when that will be."

"Fine," John replied, but she was already turning to Numfar.

"Numfar, I would be grateful if you would arrange a bed in your barracks for Lieutenant Ford."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Numfar replied with a bow.

Everything arranged for now at least, she turned away and strode for the door, Oneakka hot on her heels.

She turned into the corridor outside and let her annoyance rage up.

Why did John have to make things so difficult? The last thing she wanted was to have him in her quarters, but there was little she could actually do about it.

How was she supposed to maintain the distance she needed if he was going to be around so much and behaving this way?

He was so frustrating!

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TBC


	25. Searching for Connections

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**Chapter 25 – Searching for Connections  
**

Everyone else had long since left the research lab, leaving Seeal with some welcome silence and time to focus on what she felt were the best avenues in the research. She had commandeered all the tablets linked up to the Toshka database, the Dreamstation database, and the appropriate Sythus' computer. Eight tablets were spread out before on her the table, all working their individual searches, finding links between seemingly unconnected details from the databases.

She had been rather enjoying the process. The tablets had fast connections, not that she couldn't speed them up somewhat if she could tinker with the coding, but she had promised not to do that again. However, the Sythus computer that the tablets were connected to was housed behind a strong firewall of protection, keeping it separate from Toshka's copy database, and her own supplied Dreamstation database, and as such there was a tiny delay in the communications between all three. Again she was almost certain she could sped that up, but she was purposefully behaving herself, and besides, she didn't trust Malaca or Toshka to have hidden some dangerous code in the commandeered database.

One of the searches concluded without anything found, so she picked up that tablet and considered where next to turn in her search. She had been at this for hours now and was starting to feel tired. The others were probably all tucked up in bed fast asleep, or on some boring night shift duty. She worked well alone anyway, and was no longer held back by the types of searches she was order to make. She had found a wealth of connections and information from her new searches, and some very interesting results when compared to the Alliance records. Not that she hadn't gone down the wrong avenue of searches a few times, but that was what research was all about – finding out what isn't there as much as what is there.

The only problem with all this extra work was that there wasn't anyone else to go through all the data with her. Well, there would be plenty for the team to filter through when they came back tomorrow morning. She had probably found just as much this evening as the team had all day...well maybe not. But, she had done well, but the tiredness was starting to interfere with her thinking.

She tapped in a new search, selecting two more known pseudonyms she knew from Dreamstation and sent them off into the Toshka database to see what might come up. She tapped on the table display before her, crossing off the pseudonyms that she had already tired.

She put the tablet back as it worked away and reached for another. As she did she was aware of footsteps moving down the corridor outside the lab. She had purposefully left the lab's doorway open. She wasn't up to no good, she was working just as she had been asked, helping out, but keeping the door open reiterated that point. Not that there appeared to be anyone checking up on her. She had only heard a few engineers walking past in the last couple of hours, all talking about the approaching mission and a new rota that Ru had instigated.

The footsteps outside didn't move away along the natural corner of the corridor outside, so she guessed that someone was now checking up on her. It wasn't Oneakka, of that she was certain. If it were him, she wouldn't have heard him approaching.

She glanced round as the visitor walked in, and was only a little surprised to see that it was Madesh. He smiled as he walked towards her.

"Why are you still here?" He asked her, though clearly not surprised she was.

"Working," she replied as she returned her attention to her tablets. One had returned some results. She picked it up and tapped through the search results.

"Because he wouldn't let you do the searches you wanted?" Madesh asked as he sat down on a chair to the side of the tablets all tilted up towards her.

"They need doing," she replied as she assigned the new results into the folder system the team had etablished. "Besides, what else have I got to do?" She asked.

"How about sleeping like everyone else?" Madesh suggested.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" She returned, looking up at him from the tablet.

"Just had my full medical," he reported with a frown, one hand drifting to his arm as if something was sore. Perhaps bloods had been taken, or some sort of muscle testing. "Didn't realise it would go on so long. Forgot my pads," he gestured to a small stack of pads that had been left to one side.

She studied his face for a second, unsure if he had purposefully left them behind to come back to collect or if he really hadn't expected the medical to go on so long. It didn't really matter. The man was clearly acting out on some sort of mission to befriend her.

He was good enough man, though his worship of the Elite bordered on pathological. Well, maybe not that bad, but close. She doubted an Elite could do anything wrong in Madesh's world, even after he had been used by Iketani.

He was apparently making up for that past error, and older ones Seeal suspected. He had helped the Elite try to capture Iketani at one point, and had even taken a bullet for it. He had proudly told her how the Elite had taken him in, let him make up for his errors and use his pretty impressive superpower to help them.

She had no problem with someone who could tell whether she was being truthful or not. She said what she thought and kept the rest to herself, so what was there to be afraid of in that? However, it was readily obvious that the Sythus' crew weren't so comfortable with Madesh's skills.

Even before he had come onboard, she had heard him referred to as "The Lie Detector" by the crew. She guessed a lot of the crew were feeling uncomfortable after their little back room antics in the storage bay had been discovered. She had to wonder what other little harmless random crew activities they thought Madesh might be able to see through and might report.

She had no doubt that the crew would have found a new private room for their "personal time" together, but she suspected the Elite would keep a close eye on how much black body paint was being ordered by stores.

What was particularly amusing about the whole affair was that it was clear to her that Madesh didn't care what people might be up to around him. He was only interested in working hard for the Elite and making up for his past mistakes, which was probably why he wanted to befriend her. They had a situation in common, and he since he was being excluded by the rest of the crew, he was probably looking for a friend.

She wasn't used to someone wanting to be her friend. Not if they weren't out to get something from her. Madesh didn't appear to want anything from her but someone to talk to.

She kind of liked the guy really. He didn't seem like he could be a threat to anyone. He'd certainly been useful during the raids, his fighting style clearly influenced by sparring with Oneakka regularly. He was nowhere as fast and deadly as Oneakka, but in that respect Madesh's Elite worship would set him in good stead. Seeal had found out firsthand how well Oneakka could fight against a human as well as against Wraith.

Though, clearly Oneakka as Madesh's mentor wasn't about to fill the role of friend, so that left Madesh by himself on the ship. At least until now. She knew what it was like to be excluded.

"I've only been in their medical room once," she told him, starting up a conversation for him.

"I have unfortunately attended it a few times now," Madesh replied with a smile, pleased and grateful for the talk.

"That healer," she asked. "She looks like an Elite, but I've not seen her with the others."

"She's not an Elite," Madesh replied, his hand lingering on his arm again.

"She has a tattoo though," Seeal pointed out.

"Some of the crew do," Madesh answered, "You get to wear one if you kill a Wraith Queen directly, regardless if you're an Elite warrior. You'll see one or two on the crew during training tomorrow."

Seeal sighed. "Sure, training - that'll be a waste of time."

"It's useful," Madesh argued. "Aren't you interested in keeping fit? Learning some Elite fighting skills?"

"I've fought an Elite; that teaches you all you need to know."

"Which is?" Madesh asked.

She smiled at him. "Not to do it again."

He smiled back as he nodded.

She dropped her eyes to his arm which he was massaging again.

"The tattooed doctor take a load of your blood?" She asked.

"Just a few vials. I don't like needles," he admitted.

"Even with your drug history?" She asked bluntly.

His eyes rose sharply.

"I'm not telling anyone," she reassured him.

"I've been clean a very long time," he replied with his soft voice. "I was young and a different man then."

"Escaping," she summarised looking up at him from the tablets.

His eyes met hers and he nodded before glancing away with no small amount of shame in his expression. She had no doubt believing this guy had been easily used by others in the past. In fact, she suspected the drugs had probably been a vain early attempt to control his gift, or perhaps someone had gotten him onto them to try and control him and his supernatural skills.

She wondered what how his life might have turned out if he hadn't been 'saved' by the Elite. She imagined it wouldn't have been pleasant or all that long. He was the kind of man people used and discarded just as easily. Knowing the criminal element as well as she did, she imagined he was highly valued by criminal lords, but also hated by the lord's competition. She imagined turf wars would have kicked off just so someone could steal Madesh and his gift. It couldn't have been a good life.

Another tablet completed its search and displayed its results. She reached out for it and idly looked through what it had found.

"Think that's why they did the full medical on you?" She asked Madesh out of curiosity. The Elite had been forgiving and generous to Madesh, though not without gaining his skills for themselves, but she had to wonder if they had trust issues with his past history.

"No, it's mandatory for all new crewmen," Madesh replied, still appearing tense on the subject. All the better to get the matter out in the open then.

"They probably test all their crew," she considered.

"Have you had a medical?" He asked.

She let out a chuckle of a breath. "They did some basic tests on me when I was a prisoner." Madesh nodded. "Besides, I'm not a proper member of the crew."

"You've been here longer than I have," Madesh replied, probably thinking the comment was a compliment.

"Once they've drained me of my knowledge, I'll be gone," she replied as she tapped out a new vague search, her mind definitely tiring. Maybe she should just focus on the results of this last search.

"Go where?"

She shrugged. "Depends on how long it'll take me to clean my Alliance criminal record."

"You saved two Elite warriors from a Wraith Queen and stopped this ship from being blown up," Madesh replied. "How much more do you have to do?"

She let out a snort. "A lot more," she emphasised as she set the tablet aside and rubbed at her tired eyes. Perhaps she should turn in to sleep. After all she was expected to go do exercises with the crew tomorrow – joy.

"To prove yourself?"

She blinked her eyes clear as she refocused on Madesh. "In their eyes I have a lot to clean away, and besides you know saving a life doesn't mean the same on this ship. Not to the likes of the Military and the Elite."

"Is that why you're still up running these searches?"

"They need doing," she replied simply again.

"To prove your usefulness?"

She smiled down at the screen. "I'm always useful; fortunately Oneakka sees that for now."

"_Honoured_ _Elite_ Oneakka," Madesh corrected, as he always did. "You're proving yourself."

She sighed, perhaps having someone think they know you by having looked deep in your eyes was a bit annoying. "That I can behave myself, yes."

"You're trying to prove yourself to the Elite."

"Obviously, I want my clean record."

Silence followed from across the table. She let it lengthen, but could feel his heavy attention, and rolled her eyes to look at him from under her brow.

"You know it's not true, yes?" Madesh asked.

"What isn't?" She asked confused at the turn in the conversation.

"That you're cursed."

The words, their implication old and painful for her still to this day bothered her, despite how quickly she slammed down on the reaction.

"That was my people's thinking," she corrected him, turning her attention back to her search results.

"You believe that if you prove yourself to the Elite then it proves that your people were wrong," Madesh announced.

She sighed and set her arms on the tabletop and gave him her full attention.

"You sure know how to make conversation."

However, he kept his gaze steady, level and honest. She supposed she had started this with the drug comment.

"We'll see," she found herself honestly responding.

"No one is cursed," Madesh stated strongly, as if he was making the point for the universe to hear.

She smiled at him. "Maybe you and I can prove that," she offered.

He smiled and nodded. "I should get some sleep, as should you, ready for tomorrow."

"I will," she idly promised. "Have you trained with the crew before?" She asked as he stood up and retrieved his electronic pads from the side.

"No," he confirmed for her. "Just with recruits and security personnel at the Training Facility."

"Maybe it'll be best if we stick together," she suggested for him. "Show them what people who've lived in the real world can do."

He smiled at that, but she could see the nervousness beneath it. "I have sparred frequently with Honoured Elite Oneakka, so I feel the crew are not as unnerving."

She smiled, but didn't believe a word of it.

He glanced down at her array of tablets. "If you would like me to take a search to go through..."

"No," she waved him away. "I've got time. You need to sleep to replenish your blood supplies," she joked.

He smiled and moved away. "I shall see you for early meal before the training."

She nodded, promising herself that she would keep an eye on how the crew treated him tomorrow. Though thinking about it, the crew will probably be far unhappier with her presence than Madesh. Such things didn't bother her – she was used to exclusion far more than being included in anything.

She picked up another tablet with a completed search, but as she did she heard Madesh pause in the doorway as he left. "Honoured Elite," he uttered with surprise.

Damn it, she just knew who that would be – always sneaking up on her.

She also had to wonder how long he had been stood out there, listening in to her and Madesh's conversation. Typical of him.

Feeling defensive now, especially considering all her work through the evening that he had told her to ignore, she focused on the search results as she heard Madesh exchange vague pleasantries with Oneakka outside.

She sensed Oneakka enter a moment later and she decided to explain her reasoning straightaway.

"You didn't want to follow this research angle, so I am," she explained.

"I didn't say I didn't want to," he replied instantly in turn as he approached down the length of the room behind her. "There were more important paths to follow."

"All paths are important," she informed him, steadfastly not giving him her full attention. "Especially with a man like Kolya."

Oneakka crossed by behind her chair, brushing too close in an obvious attempt to annoy her. She kept her eyes on the tablet, but a pale hand reached in and picked up one of the tablets from the table.

There had been a blue sleeve at his wrist. She looked round at him as he sat down in the chair Madesh had just left. He was dressed very differently. He wasn't in his usual body armour; instead he was wearing a long sleeved dark blue top, the material stretched across his very muscular chest and shoulders.

Seeing him in more "normal" clothing made her feel suddenly less comfortable with him.

He smelt different as well, like the ship soap from the ship's washrooms. His short hair looked damp and was spiked up in places. He had just showered – probably after having beaten up some crew in the gyms.

In the room's lowered evening lighting, his fair complexion didn't look so pale, and the colour of his shirt made his eyes seem even more shockingly blue.

He looked like more of a normal human being, not an Elite warrior. She frowned at the top, wondering if he had other favoured clothes or keepsakes. Maybe he even snuggled down into a soft bed at night, maybe even with a woman wrapped around him to keep him warm.

She looked away at that strange thought – not liking the feeling stirring in her chest.

"And was the time worth it?" He asked in the bare second that had passed since he had sat down, but through which she had felt herself drift away into her thoughts.

"I've tracked one woman he was known to be associated with several years before his apparent death. She was on Dreamstation for several visits, only one of which coincided with Iketani being there," she reported and Oneakka leant forward to look at the tablet she indicated. One pale hand tapped the screen, rotating the display round for him as he opened the cache of new intell she had found.

"And there's Narro's sister who had a thing with Kolya," she reminded him.

"Her child isn't his," Oneakka stated.

"I know, but does he know that?"

"He would have collected her, or at least visited her, if he thought she might be his," Oneakka replied.

She lifted her eyebrows at that very telling answer. "You might think that way about any young of yours, but people like Kolya and Iketani don't necessarily care that much about their offspring."

Oneakka frowned with disapproval at the obvious point. "If I had young, I would make sure they were safe and away from those who could use them," he replied. Well, that answered the question as to whether he had any children.

"Kolya uses only loyal Genii," he continued. "Who would be more loyal to him than a child he brought up personally?"

"You're assuming that he wouldn't be afraid of the child overthrowing him," she suggested.

"He's not in power," Oneakka argued.

"Not yet," she countered. "But, he could be if Cowen and his Government don't start cleaning up Kolya's mess."

"What else have you found?"

Very little else about Kolya, but she wasn't going to admit that to him. "Two high ranking Genii that your Alliance records say are dead, but who passed through Dreamstation after their apparent unfortunate demise."

"To join Kolya," Oneakka concluded.

Seeal nodded as she tapped the display for him. "What is interesting, is that I dug around on the background of one of them, who had an affair with his brother's wife. There was a big family feud over the whole thing, which made it to the Genii newsfeeds because the slighted brother ended up in a medical ward. Then the naughty brother started his rotation with the Fleet and was apparently killed in battle, before walking easily around Dreamstation for a few days."

"So?" Oneakka asked, his blue eyes lifting from the display which showed the faces of the people in question.

"What is interesting is what happened to the slighted brother after he got out of the ward two lunar cycles later," she replied. "He cleared out his currency accounts, sold his home and hasn't been heard from since either, except that he turns up in Toshka's files."

She tapped the screen of the tablet he held, pulling up the diagram she had made for herself. "Turns out the slighted brother started working for a smuggler who used Dream a lot, and one of the main supplies smuggled out of the territory was transport components. Earlier this year, one of those smugglers got into trouble with Creass, and Creass seized the ship and its cargo. He sold it on to someone else, but we went in and took what we wanted from the ship's cargo bay."

"I thought you never looked in any of the ships passing through Dreamstation?" Oneakka annoyingly noted.

"I'm helping you here, so focus," she told him.

"I am focused, on your comments before."

"I looked in ships that were seized."

"How many of those were there?" He asked.

"A handful at the most in the ten years I worked there," she replied honestly, recognising that when Oneakka seized on certain subjects, he would not move on until he understood what he was after. "It wasn't good business to go stealing your customer's ships, and it was only those who no longer had any use for the ship who lost it. Those _few_ ships, Creass sold on for a flat fee, but we boarded the ships to be sure there were no hidden crew or other surprises."

"What did you find on that particular ship?" He asked, apparently satisfied with her answers and returning to the important information.

"Genii weaponry," she informed him. "I think the slighted brother is supplying Kolya through his brother."

Oneakka sat back frowning. "Why would that brother help the man who stole his wife and nearly killed him?"

"He wouldn't, but maybe he'd help Kolya, or maybe the whole thing was set up to make it appear that the family fell out, one brother went off to war to 'die' and the other disappears from public view. Plus, the wife disappeared with the husband she apparently betrayed," she concluded.

"Seems convoluted," Oneakka assessed.

"They're Genii, that's the way they think."

Oneakka gave a half shrug of agreement to that point.

"Besides," she continued, "the wife happens to be a close friend of Toshka's sister."

That got his interest.

"A sister that happens to be pretty powerful herself, especially now Toshka is going to lose control of his businesses," she added.

"She should be watched," Oneakka concluded and she nodded, pleased with herself.

"So, after I found that, I've started looking into any Genii deaths that made their newsfeeds, see if any of them turned up on Dream or in Toshka's files." She frowned at one tablet that was running the latest search on the Genii names. "The problem is that they were probably one off visitors and the names they gave won't match. We'll have to run some facial recognition through the Dream images."

A tablet flashed the completion of another search. The tablet was by Oneakka's elbow so he picked it up and passed it to her. She took it from him, his attention falling back on the tablet of Genii information she had summarised for him.

"This is interesting," she muttered at the results in front of her.

"What is?" Oneakka asked, leaning slight closer. She lowered the tablet so he could see the screen.

"This is an Alliance family that used to visit Dream a lot," she told him as she opened up images that had been found in Toshka's files. "Three brothers and two sisters, as well as the parents. They visited maybe every month for almost the whole ten years Dream has been open. They used to gamble, make quite a lot out of it. Seems that Toshka has a whole file on them." She poured through the images, which had obviously been photos taken of actual dog-eared ledger books. "Seems that they're moneylenders in the Alliance."

"Got their money from Dreamstation's gambling hall," Oneakka added.

She scanned the handwritten names in the lists, several which had been recognised by the computer in the search. "There's some known names in this list – oh great," she muttered, "Ulfur is in this list. Typical. As if he was going to be able to pay anyone back."

Her foolish brother. She had to wonder how many times his name might turn up in the years to come. Though now he was hopefully reunited with their people. She wondered if their mother had accepted him back...if she was still alive.

Seeal had to wonder how her uncaring, unloving mother would react to hearing Ulfur's lie about her death.

Not that Seeal cared.

She realised she had gone quiet and that Oneakka would have noticed. She quickly tapped through the images again.

"I'm no expert, but these are some top Alliance names."

Oneakka took the tablet from her.

"Sure, have a look for yourself," she muttered sarcastically as she gave up the tablet.

"You said you're no expert to look through them," Oneakka replied and she was almost certain there had been the tiniest of amused smiles altering the line of the tattoos across his right cheek.

"Sometimes you're just plain rude," she informed him as she reached for another tablet from her table wide selection.

"Most of these flagged up are lower level workers with the High Council, and some military," he commented. "There are no comments on the reason for the loans."

"There wouldn't be, because even if they had told the moneylenders something, it wouldn't have been true," she informed him.

"Strictly speaking," he said without lifting his eyes from the tablet, "there is no law against borrowing money. Did this family have any contact with The Traitor while on Dreamstation?"

"Not that I remember," she replied honestly. "I can run a search comparing their visits with Iketani'," she suggested as she reached for a free tablet that had found no results to a previous search. "If there wasn't something underhanded about the money lending, why would Toshka keep the records of the names?"

"Maybe it was only one or two names he was interested in," Oneakka considered. "I'll have Division look into the family."

Seeal nodded as she sent off the latest Iketani search of the Dreamstation database.

Oneakka tapped something into the tablet, flagging up the information with the computer for later and handed it back to her. She took it, a little surprised at the tiny polite return of her tablet.

"Nothing on any more of Kolya's conquests?" He asked over the exchange of the pad.

"Not yet," she admitted.

He gave her a pointed 'I told you so' look.

"I've found enough," she argued against the silent point.

"He won't have been stupid with the women he picked," he told her again. "If there are any, they'll be with his hidden forces."

"Except Iketani," Seeal pointed out. "She was his lover and we know he helped her set up the assassination on Athos."

"She's dead," Oneakka stated with satisfaction.

"Maybe we should look at his past friendships on the Genii homeworld when he was younger," she considered. "Old friendships bred trusted associations," she quoted Creass.

"Tomorrow," Oneakka replied, the tone close to an order. "Behave yourself with the crew tomorrow."

It was a sudden change of subject, which was typical of him. "I assume you're talking about the training session. I promise not to hurt any of them," she said with a pointed smile.

"Hurting them in sparring is acceptable," Oneakka replied surprising her slightly, "Killing them isn't."

She pulled a face at him. "Why would I want to kill-?" She stopped as she realised there was a hint of amusement creasing the corner of his eyes. Sat closer to him than usual, she realised again that the tattoos on the right side of his face served to conceal some of his expressions, and the long scar limited some movement of his right cheek. It was not much, but it probably made it easier for him to conceal his intentions. Useful for him, as long as he controlled the non-tattooed side as well.

However, this evening she could quite easily see that he was trying to goad her. Well, she was not going to react to that.

However, that said, she was rather glad that he hadn't reacted badly to her having stayed up to run the searches he had told her not to bother with. He had infuriated her earlier with that order, but it seemed that this evening he was almost purposefully taking the time to listen to what she had found.

There were some days when she thought she understood him clearly, but on other days he behaved differently and confused her reading of him.

Like him sat here in that tight dark fabric top and smelling of clean skin.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'll try not to damage your people."

"Two representatives from Atlantis will be there as well," Oneakka informed her. "Play nice with them too."

"_You're_ telling me how to play nice with other people?" She pointed out the irony. "I at least had to get along with others on Dreamstation, you just threaten and steamroll over other people."

"You want to go to that cell on Rosenthal?" He threatened again.

She glared at him. "I saved your ship," she reminded him, "and your own backside, or do I have to keep reminding you of that?"

"Who logged you back on these computers?" He asked, avoiding her point.

"I never logged off," she happily explained. Nevaeh had been the last to leave the lab and hadn't said anything about leaving Seeal alone to work. "I didn't hack into anything," she clarified.

"Keep it that way," he responded.

"Shouldn't you be getting some nice Elite sleep?" She pushed. "Tucked up in bed ready for your big upcoming battle."

The creases shifted around his eyes again, but he didn't rise to that challenge.

"You going to admit I was right?" She tried instead, annoyed that he kept bringing up the Rosenthal cell.

"About what?" He asked, his blue gaze direct.

"About digging around in Kolya's romantic past," she explained indicating the tablets in front of her that had run her searches.

"You didn't find anything useful," he pointed out, mostly accurately.

"I found several important things that might not have come up if I hadn't done this work that you said was a waste of time."

"I didn't say it was a waste of time, I ordered you to focus on other data. And you didn't find anything specifically about his past lovers."

"A technicality," she brushed his point aside. "It doesn't matter how you get there, only what you end up finding."

He didn't answer that but stood up from his seat, which she took as evidence that she had won the point. "Sleep, Raven," he ordered. "Tyoosi won't like you alone in here."

"He said I could walk around the ship without a guard now," she argued as he moved away towards the open door. She shifted around in her chair to watch him leaving.

"Walk around the ship, yes; sitting in here with multiple-computer access without supervision, no."

"You just can't get any recognition for good work on this ship," she muttered as she turned back to her tablets. However, she hadn't missed the point that Oneakka didn't mind her being in here, just that Tyoosi wouldn't like it.

She heard Oneakka pause at the exit and she waited for a returning verbal salvo. Only he didn't say anything, in fact he was silent.

That couldn't be good. She was almost certain he hadn't left.

She looked back round and sure enough he was still stood just inside the room, looking at her.

"I heard what Madesh said to you," he stated.

She didn't need to ask which bit he was referring to. He must have been stood outside the door a lot longer than she had hoped. How did such a big man move so quietly?

And why did everyone keep focusing on the whole cursed business?

"Never believe what others think about you," Oneakka added.

Well, she didn't, so it wasn't important.

"Does that mean you're not a big unthinking brutish Elite who loses his temper all the time?" She retaliated.

"You've never seen me lose my temper," he replied darkly.

"Really? Because you seemed to lose something to wrench Toshka's computer core out of his office wall," she reminded him. Not that the display of brute male strength hadn't been impressive. "And on the Glisi world against the Wraith."

He glanced away as if thinking about it, but looked back with that direct gaze again. "Force doesn't mean you're angry," he replied seriously. "Besides, sometimes you've got to behave the way you want people to see you."

She had no problem believing that about him. From the outside he was all tattoos, aggressive directness, impatience, and violent fighting skills, however, the more time she spent with him, the more he was turning out to be a far more intriguing.

"But, then you know all about that," he added a beat before he walked out of the lab.

He was also good at getting in the last word, damn him.

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TBC


	26. The End of A Very Long Day

**Note:** Here comes some more of that angst I warned you all about...

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**Chapter 26 – The End of A Very Long Day**

He just didn't know when to shut up.

Why he'd thought it was a good idea to force the issue of sharing quarters with Teyla he'd never know.

It was just that she'd so obviously wanted to keep as far away from him as possible. She had wanted him down in the barracks with everyone else; they'd signed the Political Marriage contract and now she wanted as little to do with him as she could. She had said as much back in that Athosian corridor – she wanted him out of her life.

She just wanted to keep things political and nothing more – well, that was why he was here too.

In many ways he was glad the affair was over now. He'd been stupid and crap at his job. Nothing had proven that fact to him more than listening today to all that Woolsey had achieved and discovered from his meetings with Torren and other political people on Athos. While John had been learning all he could about Teyla, Woolsey had been doing his actual job – finding out how to make friends, learning about trade in the Alliance, finding out the political stories, relationships and so on. John instead had been busy counting Teyla's tattoos, rediscovering her birthmark over and over, and practising that way to touch her to make her...

Fun, sensual knowledge for him, but useless for Atlantis. They'd paid him to go to Athos and forge bonds, well he'd only been interested in one bond. He'd just let Woolsey get on with his work, _their_ work, while John had been living it up in Teyla's bed. He had convinced himself that spending time with her had been working on the political relationship with the Elite through her, but hell, he knew more than most that the Elite didn't work like that. They were a complex unity of individuals. There didn't appear to be any central controlling force, so by spending time with her he'd convinced himself that he had been doing the good work still.

Instead he'd betrayed Atlantis and had now possibly ruined things for Colonel Carter's career. Shame had been a lingering friend since he'd been sat in Carter's office and realised the enormity of what he'd done.

He'd been stupid, stupid to indulge in his hormones, and then even more so to have reacted out of anger and feeling snubbed.

Well, that was over now. All he had left in this was to carry forward with his honest belief that this contract could do more for Atlantis, and for Earth, than anything else they'd achieved in Pegasus to date. He'd made this mistake with Teyla, but he'd darn well see this contract through and working for Atlantis.

And if she thought that he was just going to slip down to the barracks downstairs and keep all quiet and out the way, then she didn't know him at all.

He was going to be the best damn advocate of Atlantis he could be, and he was going to work every drop out of his new shining marriage contract. He'd learn everything he could about the Alliance, their weapons, their tactics. He'd get working with the Elite against the Wraith as fast as he could, and hopefully get Carson's retrovirus up and running again.

He was going to make this mistake count for something. He was going to do the very best that he could, and he was going to be the best damn Political Athosian/Elite husband Teyla could have asked for, and she was just going to have to put up with it.

Sure pushing things over their sleeping arrangements had been somewhat stupid, but it had been symbolic and she'd known it. Why exactly Oneakka had helped John out he wasn't sure, but then it seemed that Oneakka, also weirdly, had been ready to put more of the contract into force right away by offering intell on the new Wraith stunning tech.

Maybe Oneakka would be one of the best Elite to talk to, John considered as he contemplated the parkland grass between his boots. Though, the idea of putting Sumner and Oneakka in the same room together gave John nervous chills. Maybe not Oneakka, or maybe him with Si or Halling...Halling had always seemed one of the most stable and laidback of the Elite. He was Athosian too, which might even help, since John was now technically an Athosian's husband. Did that make him Athosian too?

Ford shifted in his spot on the bench beside John. They'd been sitting here for a hell of a long time, waiting for Teyla to return to collect him and allow Ford and their guards to get to their own beds. She was taking her time though, which was probably to make a point of her own.

Or maybe she just had really important Elite work to get done.

Looking out across the Hydroponics Bay parkland, John watched his and Ford's guards. They were relaxed and barely kept an eye on him and Ford here, but then what could they actually get up to in here? Numfar was telling the guards some story, his arms moving around like it was a real good tale. The small number of crew that John had interacted with so far seemed dedicated and reasonably laid back about his and Ford's presence. The guards been full of questions earlier in the canteen, asking them about Earth and Atlantis. John had dealt with the questions easily enough, having gotten quite used to the dos and don'ts of political interactions, courtesy of Woolsey's frequent lessons. Plus, John was getting used to meeting new people from other planets, and he guessed he was going to be doing this a whole lot more now as Teyla's husband.

Numfar glanced towards him and Ford, but just a glance round to check they weren't up to anything or inadvertently hurting themselves or something. Numfar, apart from his unfortunate name, was a pretty good guy, and had even joined in with John's teasing of Ford following the kid's "I brought a flashbang" comment to Oneakka.

Poor Ford had looked like he'd lost something precious and was obviously deeply embarrassed still. John knew Rodney would have loved the moment; he'd have to remember to tell Rodney about it when they got back to the city.

That was if they made it back there safely after the big upcoming battle. And it did look like there was something particularly significant about this upcoming battle. The crew had made enough comments about it to add more info than Atlantis' long range sensors ever could. It seemed that the Elite had held back their ships from the fight, having just sent in individual Elite to help out, and that seemed odd, even to John. Not that the Elite didn't have more than enough work to do elsewhere, and the Alliance Fleet had more than enough firepower to hold their own clearly. Something was about to change though; the Elite were heading into the fray, and John and Ford were going to be there to see it through.

Despite his apparent excitement at being a part of such a massive decisive battle, John could tell that Ford was anxious about it. John had reminded him that the best place to be in a major battle, or any battle against the Wraith, was to be alongside an Elite. John had seen what they could do and it had left a strong impression. Sure even Elite could die, John had seen that first hand and lain awake many nights worrying about Teyla, but when it comes to probabilities and increasing your chances of survival, John still believed that being near an Elite was the best place to be. And right now where were a good handful of Elite warriors on this ship.

He and Ford would be fine.

Hopefully...

"But," Ford put into the silent pause between them, "isn't it usually the extras alongside the big heroes that get killed off in the movies?" The argument was borne from boredom as much as nervousness.

"Yeah," John replied, "but _we're_ the heroes of the movie."

"That defeats your whole point about sticking close to the Elite heroes," Ford pointed out.

"At least you brought a flashbang," John returned and Ford looked away. The kid shook his head and there was some quiet muttering that John chose to ignore.

John grinned as he looked back out at the park, which included the path along which Teyla was hopefully going to appear sometime soon.

Movement from the nearest flowerbed drew John's attention round though. Ketra had greeted his return to the Bay almost has dramatically as the last time, but she'd quickly grown bored with everyone simply stood around waiting for Teyla to return. The goat from earlier had vanished, but Ketra had kept herself entertained by trying to catch the butterflies that were dancing across the line of flowers opposite the benches.

John watched her now, her backside and legs bunched ready to pounce up at the butterflies. She hadn't caught a single one through the entire time John had been sat here.

He wondered why she thought she eventually would, as it wasn't like she was hidden from the butterflies. A large silver coloured lizard jumping up and down every few minutes was hardly difficult for the butterflies to spot. She had nothing on the super fast graceful fluttering insects, which simply and easily avoided Ketra's attacking snout each time, before quickly returning to their feeding from the flowers.

"Think we'll get a go with their space guns tomorrow?" Ford asked hopefully.

"Maybe," John considered, but having already used Alliance weaponry, it wasn't such a great thrill for him. He glanced at his watch. He hadn't quite gotten his head around the time difference with the Elite. Athos and Atlantis were reasonably close sometimes, though Athos' day lengths varied considerably on the time of year. On an Elite ship, he believed they went with some arbitrary Alliance standard, but he wasn't all that clear on what that was. He glanced over at the guards, thinking to ask Numfar, but the thought died almost immediately. It was very late, that was all John needed to know. He could see that it was late for the guards too, because he could see they were tired.

And then they straightened their backs to smart attention, which could only mean one thing...an Elite had appeared. John's eyes moved immediately to the path, and sure enough, Teyla had finally appeared.

Ketra burst into John's view of Teyla. The dragon blazed past the guards and Numfar with a speed and silence that a creature her size shouldn't be able to achieve.

Teyla stopped on the path as Ketra reached her, pausing to greet her joyful pet. Ketra danced around her, the alien bubbling purrs loud enough to reach John where he was on the bench. He watched as Teyla smiled down at Ketra and stroked her hands over Ketra's head and sides.

It hit John like a sledgehammer that he hadn't seen Teyla smile, properly smile, like that in a long time. Not since...it had to have been the last time they were together in Atlantis, before the call had come in for the mission to the Glisi homeworld, or whatever long numerical value the military had put on the planet. She'd been smiling then, but then they had been...

John pulled his mind away from the sensual memories, and his eyes physically away from his new wife.

That had been the last time she'd properly smiled around him, even including their time together yesterday before she had dropped the "I'm getting married" bombshell. Thinking back he'd sensed something was up with her, but he'd been too interested in touching her again, kissing her...

He'd been far too interested in all of that for too long. It was all about politics now.

Not smiles.

He slid his gaze back to her as the guards approached her and Ketra, Ford rising from his seat next to John to move forward a few steps as well, eager maybe to get to his barracks bed. John stayed seated though, watching as the honest smile dropped from Teyla's face to be replaced with that Elite blandness that annoyed him so much.

It didn't quite get to him as much now though, because all he saw was the absence of the smile and the realisation that she was as miserable about all this as he was.

That awareness warred inside against the need to stay angry with her. She'd broken them up, and in the worst possible way. She'd acted like she hadn't needed his help back in the Offering Ceremony, and she'd pretty much given him the cold shoulder since. He had every right to be angry with her.

Except that it was hard to stay angry as he watched her talking with the guards. Her Elite mode was in place, but he could see the subtle cues to her body language and expressions. She was uncomfortable, probably annoyed with him still, and was about to have him invade her home on the ship.

A part of him considered backing out of the idea, of taking that bed down in the barracks below her floor.

No, a stubborn element reacted angrily at just the thought of it. He was the one sticking to the contract, and he wasn't going to be pushed downstairs. She couldn't just forget about him.

Her gaze moved over to him, and he felt her attention like a live wire touching his skin. Realising he was still seated, he rose up from the bench, her eyes still on him, studying him in turn.

He wanted her to see his anger, his hurt, but at the same time he wanted to hide that, play the strong solider role himself. Because he was miserable too, and about to head into a massive battle he knew little about, with people he barely knew.

Actually, as a pilot, that wasn't all that new in his life.

She looked away to the guards and John made himself tune into the conversation he could hear across the short distance.

"...if you would see to the Lieutenant's care and orientation with the barracks," Teyla was saying to Numfar.

"Yes, of course, Honoured Elite," Numfar replied, his upper body practically horizontal with two deep bows. John guessed Numfar's new role of guard and tour guide for Teyla's new husband and Ford was a great honour for Numfar.

Then all of the group were turning towards him and Ford. Ford, apparently more forward thinking than John, reached down and picked up his backpack and P90. John did the same, moving out of habit more than anything else. A few steps behind Ford, John followed the kid across the grass.

"I apologise for keeping you waiting so long," Teyla said to them, though John noticed that most of her attention was on Ford. "Lieutenant Ford, Numfar will see to your care."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Ford replied dipping his head as he reached her first. John stopped a foot or so behind the kid.

Ford turned round, his worry and indecision clear. "You'll be okay?" Ford asked.

"That was going to be my question," John joked back weakly, his gaze travelling to Numfar. He knew Ford would be okay, that they wouldn't risk letting anything happen to him, and Numfar seemed okay to John. But, they were in unknown territory.

Was John stupid to split him and Ford up? Would Sumner kick his ass about this later?

But, it wasn't like Teyla would accept Ford in her quarters too, and John just couldn't let her relegate him to another floor. They were all going to have to get used to this new arrangement; just like with any other Alliance Political Marriage.

But, splitting up from Ford now – was that smart? Was this another one of those decisions he was going to kick himself for later?

He wondered if he was going to second guess every single decision he made from now onwards. Something told him that wasn't likely to happen; He followed his gut too much.

However, right now, his gut, and his small nugget of a political brain, told him to trust Ford to Numfar's care. It would look good – they would blend in with the crew better. Working apart from each other at times could help them learn more, meet more people. In fact, Ford could probably interact with more of the crew than John could as the husband of an Elite warrior.

He and Ford had already discussed communications on the ship while apart. They had talked quietly on the bench once the guards had given them a little space. Their radios worked on the ship it seemed, and they agreed a frequency. They would check in with each other with only clicks for now, except in emergencies. John would have to talk to somebody about maybe getting him and Ford one of the com devices that all of the crew seemed to wear around their ear that connected in at their collar. The Elite and crew would no doubt tap into anything he and Ford said to each other on such coms, but then the Elite could probably pick up the radio frequency too. John wasn't even sure if they were supposed to use the radios, but they would until the point that somebody told them not to. Tyoosi hadn't said anything about the radios during the security checks, so if something was said, John would just plead ignorance. John had found that pleading ignorance could be very useful when in a tricky situation.

He couldn't very well do that with Teyla though, but he could with Tyoosi and the rest of the crew...for now at least.

"I'll be alright," John concluded, meeting Ford's gaze pointedly. "Make sure you behave yourself during your sleepover."

Ford rolled his eyes slightly, but John noticed that he gripped the top of his P90 a little tighter. The kid smiled and looked to Numfar with a more serious professional face in place.

Numfar nodded to John, then bowed to Teyla and led Ford away. The two guards, understanding that they weren't needed anymore, followed. John watched Ford as he fell into step with Numfar along the path. The kid looked back several times, looking nervous, but determined. Just before the path took them out of sight, John lifted a hand and gave him a hopefully supportive, casual wave. Ford nodded like it was a proper military hand signal, looked forward and strode out of sight.

"They grow up so fast," John joked to the world, and into the strained silence.

It was just him and Teyla now.

Alone in the park; silent and uncomfortable.

Ketra nudged John's hand, literally reminding him that she was there too. He smiled down at the dragon, desperately grateful for her being here, and stroked over her warm head. The large orange eyes disappeared behind her eyelids as a bubbling purr vibrated up from the muscular dinosaur chest that was leant against John's leg.

At least someone was happy with all of this. He stroked Ketra's head again, gathered his courage, and finally looked at Teyla.

She was looking down at Ketra, as he had been, and the faintest of frowns creased her brow. Maybe she couldn't understand why something female still liked having him around. The bitter thought died as quickly as it arrived, and John looked back down at Ketra again. The orange eyes opened and glanced over to Teyla with what almost looked like a frown of her own.

John looked back to Teyla, only now to realise that she had changed clothes. He would have noticed that in an instant before now. In fact, he hadn't missed the fact that she was dressing more "Athosian" these last couple of days – like how she had dressed when he had first met her. The full bodysuits were a thing of the past it seemed, and instead the cropped tops and more colourful fabrics had returned, well muted colours, after all you didn't want to dress in bright vibrant colours when you were hunting a Wraith Queen.

Teyla gaze leapt to his, as if feeling his study of her.

He couldn't remember not knowing what to say to her before. Even during his first days with her, when she had pulled him out of that slaver's cage, he had let his mouth work as usual. Now though, he didn't quite know what to say to her.

A battle was waging inside, between part of him that wanted to stay bitter and angry with her, and another more annoyingly logical and rational part that told him to make the best of the bad situation. He and Teyla were both miserable with things, and they had to move forward somehow.

Thing was, he didn't know how to deal with any of that, and since his mouth had gotten him into this problem in the first place, and he was second guessing himself about everything this evening, he was left without anything to say.

The only thing that seemed to help him feel a little bit better about that was that she didn't seem to know what to say either. She didn't look as angry as earlier, which was good, but she certainly wasn't smiling at him as she had with Ketra.

Her dark eyes shifted over his face quickly, as if unsure how to look at him, and she looked away, down to his pack and P90.

"They located a proper spare bed in storage," she finally broke the silence, which though felt as if it had gone on for strained awkward hours, had probably only been a few seconds. "It has been installed in my quarters," she added. Okay, there had been a little bit of annoyance in her tone there.

"Thanks," John replied immediately.

"There is little space for you," she added quickly.

"I don't need much," he responded just as quickly, adding a casual shrug to dismiss the whole thing as unimportant.

Her frown returned, deeper this time.

The awkward silence returned, through which John kept scratching around one of Ketra's ears, and not making direct eye contact with his new wife.

Wife!

"Very well," Teyla announced before she quickly turned away and strode back to the path that would lead them back out of the Bay. "Ketra, come!" She ordered.

Ketra bounded forward, happily following her mistress and seemingly unaware of the difficult awkward atmosphere.

John wasn't though.

Settling his pack more securely on his back, he followed them both towards the shared quarters that he'd so insisted on.

0000000

She said nothing more to John throughout their walk to her quarters.

She had promised herself to be calm and professional about it all, but it was a struggle.

He seemed so in control and casual about it all. She saw the caution behind his eyes though, his careful watching of her, as if she were some wild creature that could behave erratically at any moment.

She had accepted the point of his sleeping in her quarters for now. Oneakka had been correct enough on the standard details of the sleeping arrangements in a Political Marriage; she had studied the contract very closely after the meeting with Tyoosi. The contract was very clear in fact – she and John must be seen to be living a life together, at least for the number of designated days spent together in a year. It was a farce, as everyone knew that most political marriages were arranged and rarely ever expressed any real emotion, at least at the start. Some turned out differently, and there were the rare occasions, such as with Zabetha and Rhakshar, where love and political need met perfectly. However, most of the time political marriages were less than friendly. The couple sometimes were from peoples who had battled for generations and now had to get along for the sake of politics.

It was not so extreme with her and John. She had reminded her of that through her evening sparring session with Oneakka, who had offered it clearly seeing that she had needed to let off some steam. Annoyed with him for seeing it and with herself for needing it, she let all go during the sparring session and had in fact thoroughly enjoyed herself. Initially it had been a chance to expression some dissatisfaction with her Elite friend who had seemed unusually intent for her to stick to the letter of her marriage contract, but as the weapons had clashed and swung, she had just let her raging annoyance and anger out.

Oneakka had taken the attack without flinching, in fact firing more brutal attacks than ever before back at her. It had pushed her, freed her, and allowed her to the point of tears and rage without losing any face or any true control.

Of course such sparring had resulted in some bruises and pulled muscles.

They niggled at her awareness as she marched now down the corridor towards the transport and jabbed at the doors' controls. The doors slid open and she led the way in, except Ketra bumped heavily against her legs as the dragon squeezed into the room first like a child wanting to get to play. Frowning down at the dragon, Teyla stepped into the transport room, Ketra looking past her to John as he too entered the small space.

The doors slid shut as Teyla turned and jabbed the appropriate symbol for her floor. She faced the closed doors and waited patiently.

His overly familiar scent filled the small space of the transport. The artificial scent, though pleasant to her nose, seemed stronger than usual, as if even her nose was more aware of him than ever before.

The transport stopped and the doors slid open. Teyla paused and looked down at Ketra, wondering if the dragon would now wish push forward to exit as quickly as she had entered the transport. Teyla didn't wish to be knocked over by the dragon as she left. The last thing she wanted was for John to see her fall to the floor and then attempt to help her up.

Ketra looked up expectantly, watching her in turn, and decidedly not moving forward.

Frowning at her pet's new behaviour, Teyla exited the transport and led the way down the corridor. A glance back confirmed that Ketra was just behind her heels, looking up at her and then back to John as he took up the rear of their tiny group.

There were some days that Teyla felt very in synch with her beloved pet, but today was not one of them.

It was foolish to wish that Ketra would turn away from John, as Teyla was forcing herself to do. Watching Ketra's clear delight in John's presence back in the Hydroponics Bay had felt cutting, as if it were too strong a reminder of how she herself had behaved in his presence before now; Too enamoured and distracted by his handsome body, expressive face, and pleasing personality.

Those facts about him had never annoyed her before, now they felt glaring.

It was as if he placed a spell on people – making them like him, making them love him.

She reached her quarters, and as the door slid open she was confronted by the new addition to her home. The spare barracks bed had been positioned to the right of the central low table. To fit it in there, she had to have the right-hand sofa moved to the furthest wall in the living space. The area looked overly filled now, crammed with furniture, with little space between them.

He had wanted to be in here, well he would have to deal with the reality of that and the lack of space it would afford him. Luckily Ketra's bed was behind the left-hand sofa, and therefore untouched. However, Teyla had become convinced that Ketra was in fact spending some, if not all, her nights sleeping on one of the sofas, which she was not supposed to do. Teyla hadn't been able to catch Ketra doing so, so far, but the signs were there. Cushions were often gathered together at one end and partially crushed as if Ketra had snuggled down against them. It was important to stop Ketra climbing on such things, considering her size and weight. Teyla kept reinforcing the order that Ketra was not to climb on furniture as she had been able to do as a youngling. Ketra appeared to follow such orders during the day, but apparently not at night.

Ketra barged past her legs now, rushing in the quarters and towards the new bed and began snuffling around it with interest. As Teyla followed, Ketra set her front legs up on the bed.

"Ketra, no. Down," Teyla ordered sternly. "The bed is not for you."

"It's okay," John added unhelpfully as the door slid shut behind him.

"She is not allowed on the furniture," Teyla reminded him, which he should know since he had assisted her in training Ketra.

He nodded with agreement, but there was a look of defiance in his expression as he glanced away to his new bed. She suspected she wouldn't have an ally in discovering if Ketra really was spending her nights on the sofas.

"Come, Ketra," Teyla called to her pet with a calmer tone. Ketra, having gotten down from the bed, approached, looking furtive after being told off. Teyla stroked her head and the dragon's colouring lightened into silver once more. "That is John's bed," she instructed more gently.

Apparently to back up that instruction, John moved forward and placed his pack and weapon down on the end of the bed. Bed-sheets had been left folded on the pillow at the far end. It was always a comfortable temperature on the ship, so he should not need a blanket over him, as they had sometimes required on Athos.

He opened the top of his pack, peering into it.

"There are two empty shelves in the wall cupboard to your right," she informed him. She had cleared them out herself, realising that he was going to need some space to put his things. At least temporarily while he was on the ship.

"Thanks," he replied as he turned immediately towards the concealed door, finding it easily and touching the sensor to open the small door. He would have to be satisfied with that small space, for she had to keep her own things somewhere in her own quarters. He would live in here for now and she would have her sleeping area. Except that the only washroom was through her sleeping area.

She realised that she had not arranged for a free space in the washroom for him. "I will ensure there is space for your things in the washroom," she informed him, taking the activity as a welcome excuse to walk away from him.

She moved into her sleeping space. She had already pulled the dividing curtain partway across before she had collected him. It provided a sense of separation at least. She paused to remove her swords and their scabbards, setting them down in their usual place. As she did she was aware of the sounds of John moving around.

Turning away, she continued on into the washroom, glancing around to ensure that it was presentable. If it were not, then he would have to make do. It was tidy though, as it nearly always was. She rearranged the few toiletries she had into the right-hand side only container by the sink. The metal cages contained the toiletries to ensure they did not fall everywhere while the ship was in battle. He would have the left side. She turned to the shower area. There was space enough for his own products in there.

Had he brought a towel with him? Should she provide one for her new husband? There had been notes in the contract about providing basic amenities to the visiting spouse.

She exited the washroom to see John step around the end of the dividing curtain, a small dark bag in his hand – his toiletries.

He had taken off his boots and his jacket, and now looked more his usual relaxed self. His hair looked more dishevelled though, as if he had just run both his hands through it.

"Do you have a towel with you?" She asked politely.

"Only a small one," he replied.

She nodded and turned back into the washroom, and pulled a fresh large towel from a warmed cupboard space. She rearranged her own towel to provide space for his on the heated rail. She would have less space with him here, but it was liveable.

Leaving the washroom, she found John had moved a little further into her sleeping area, Ketra stood at his side. His eyes moved abruptly away from her bed.

"Your towel is the green one," she informed him.

"Thanks," he repeated, his main word of choice at the moment. Well, he had gotten his own way, though at least his smugness of before was gone now.

With nothing else to arrange for him, no other distractions, she did not know what else to say. She headed towards her wardrobe, opening the doors to select her clothes for tomorrow. "I need to retire shortly," she informed him. "Tomorrow will be important."

"Sure, big battle and all," John replied as he crossed through her space, passing behind her. She swore her skin could feel his exact position as he passed by.

"You have your first training session with the crew," she reminded him.

She heard him pause just outside the entrance to the washroom. She glanced round to see him pulling a face.

"Oh yeah, that too," he replied, and she almost smiled at his pained look.

She looked quickly back into her wardrobe and selected a top and trousers without thinking. It had never been difficult to make conversation with John before, but now it felt laboured and difficult. She realised that the colours of the top and trousers she had selected did not combine well. She returned them to the wardrobe as she heard the washroom's door slide shut.

She let out a heavy breath.

How could things have changed so dramatically so quickly?

A dragon snout brushed against her leg, drawing her attention down to Ketra.

"I am fine," Teyla lied to the unasked question. She stroked Ketra's head once more and returned her attention to selecting more appropriately combined clothing.

Once selected set them aside, and removed her stunner and holster from around her waist. She did not want to change into her night clothes until John was out of the washroom. Instead, she sat on the side of her bed and set about freeing her hair from its braids, whilst reading through the latest reports that had come through in the last hour, and then the latest of the news broadcasts. The announcement of her marriage was top of the list. She did not wish to read the details of what people thought of her decision right now. No doubt there would be a great deal of political discussions about her marriage, which was just what she had hoped to achieve, but this evening the reality of her marriage was this awkward sharing of her quarters.

She had not expected this outcome when she had left her quarters for Athos only a few days ago.

Ketra had settled down on the thick central Athosian rug and had rolled onto her side with a heavy, apparently happy sigh. Teyla slid off her boots and socks, and set her bare toes on Ketra's warm back, as she so often did. Ketra lifted her head and looked back at her with a long sleepy blink and then sighed again as she set her cheek back to the rug.

Teyla hear the shower shutdown in the washroom.

She focused on the news reports with steadfast focus. She did not need to think about John being naked in her washroom.

She would only need to open the door. He might not accept her advances after what had happened, but maybe he would...

No, she did not want that. Well, most of her did not. A rebellious hormonally driven part of her did though. She had always been good at controlling herself, and she was determined to continue to assert control of herself around John. She would no longer be ruled by sensual things.

She heard the hot hair blower start up inside. He would be drying his wayward hair. He had often amused her with how it made his hair stand up even straighter when he used it.

No, such times of play were over; she was a focused Elite warrior.

To that end, she closed the news reports and called up the latest scan results from the Sythus' computer link. Seifer was working on it now, as she could see the latest data being added in real time.

The washroom door slid open and she could not stop herself from immediately looking up.

He was dressed in his night clothes of shorts and a short short-sleeved shirt with something written across his chest in his home language. He had worn a similar shirt at night during her stay with him in Atlantis, and had translated the meaning as his military division of "Air Force". This shirt's slogan appeared different and there was a motif that she did not recognise. She did not know what it meant, but the colours were pleasing.

Of their own accord, her eyes drifted up to his hair, but the strands were still slightly wet and therefore reasonably well controlled.

She looked back down to her pad. "I hope the water was not too warm," she found herself saying. "The Sythus' new engine has been working more efficiently than expected, which resulted in our hot water being too hot for a short while."

"It was fine," John informed her as he began moving across her sleeping space. "I'm gonna turn in."

She made herself look back up at him as he passed by on the other side of Ketra.

"Night, Ketra," John added down to the dragon. Ketra's tail banged against the floor in response.

"I shall not be up much longer," Teyla informed him. "I shall keep the lighting low until then."

"I'll probably pass right out," he replied as he reached the partially drawn dividing curtain. "It's been a big day," he added, seeming to pause at the end, as if he only just realised how significant his words were.

It had been their wedding day.

She glanced away. She felt somewhat ashamed of herself, for her behaviour towards him today.

She lifted the pad in her hand. "We are the talk of the Alliance this evening."

His eyes lowered to the pad. "And probably among some real powerful people on Earth," he added. He didn't look all that comforted by the thought as he looked away, a tweak to his cheek telling her his mind was working away at a something.

"This could change the future for this galaxy," she reminded him, and his green eyes returned to her. "This alliance, between our peoples," she clarified. "I do believe it will be important."

His lips pressed together as he nodded. "I think so too," he replied, but he didn't sound as convinced as she had expected.

She nodded back, but their agreement on that fact did not seem to lessen the discomfort in the room as she had hoped it might.

He glanced away, nodding again.

"I think that we just need to focus on moving forward," she suggested, having practiced the words earlier after her sparring with Oneakka. "To put the past behind us, and focus on the ultimate goal."

"The ultimate goal," he repeated, seeming unsure what she meant.

"The eradication of the Wraith," she reminded him. "To bring freedom to all the peoples of the galaxy."

He nodded quickly, but his eyes did not meet hers. "Sure, of course." He nodded again, his eyes moving away to the partly drawn curtain. "I should get to bed. Got to get some rest before I get my ass royally kicked tomorrow." His smile was forced and thin.

"I am sure you will do fine," she assured him.

He nodded silently. It was strange to see him so quiet, and to still feel so uncomfortable in his presence.

He had agreed to move forward. That was good. Yet, it did not feel good. It felt empty and echoing with pain.

Silence hung between them again, heavy, laden with confusion and discomfort for her, and she sensed that he felt similar.

"I should get to that rest," he stated into the silence, gesturing away past the end of the curtain. "Ass kicking to get to and all."

"Of course," she readily agreed.

He nodded and moved away, stepping round the end of the dividing curtain. On the other side, he reached up and tugged it across, completing the separation of their two living spaces.

At the sound, Ketra sat up on the rug, dislodging Teyla's bare feet.

Teyla listened to the sound of John moving away, and watched the curtain moving faintly as it settled into its new position, the fabric pooling on the floor. There was a slither of space at the far end where it did not quite reach the far wall, and through it she saw the light level abruptly dim. He had retired to bed. Reaching across to her bedside table, she turned the dial to lower her own side's lighting slightly so that he could sleep.

It was time for her to change and retire to her own bed, but she felt somewhat despondent.

He was correct that it had been a "big day". Yet, from here it seemed that the rest of the days to come, as few or as many as they may be, seemed strangely unappealing. She had wanted her marriage contract in place so that she could face her eventual death knowing that she left something significant behind her. She had achieved that goal today, but rather than filling her with a sense of satisfaction, it had left her feeling empty.

And sad.

She looked back at the dividing curtain.

She had wanted, needed, him out of her life.

He was the only man she had ever truly loved, and she had pushed him away.

He had made her feel so happy, so free, that she had forgotten who she was, and bad things had happened as a result.

She needed to remain focused, but here he was, pushing his way back into her life.

He may be truthful in that all he wanted from her now was the political gains for his people, and she in turn did the same for her people, yet...

All recruits were told from their first days of Elite training that being an Elite was hard, that it would demand everything you had and more, that it would require sacrifices abound, and will eventually claim your life.

Yet it was a life she had always wanted, a life of purpose, of meaning, and a way to literally change millions of lives for the better.

Until now she had never warred with that belief, but now, her latest sacrifice given, she wondered if perhaps she could have lived her life differently.

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TBC


	27. Burning Eyes

**Note:** Sorry for the couple of weeks without any chapters - had some family stuff and probably just plain needed a break (over 100,000 words now posted in this fic!), and these next chapters took quite a bit of work to be honest. It still amazes me how much time it takes to edit a chapter, let alone write it! But back on the case now and have 3 new chapters for this evening. I hope you guys enjoy them.

00000

**Chapter 27 – Burning Eyes**

The light switch was easy enough to find by the door and John jabbed it as he passed by, shutting down the light on his side of the dividing curtain. There was still plenty of light to see the single bed before him, which was set jammed in between the far wall of Teyla's quarters and the large central coffee table. The room did look crowded, but so was the air and the thoughts in his own head.

The light lowered; Teyla keeping to her promise to keep the lighting low to let him sleep.

He was almost certain he wasn't going to get any decent sleep tonight, even though he was tired to his bones. Stood at the foot of his bed, looking down at the basic sheets that he'd hurriedly put into place before his shower, he desperately missed Atlantis.

Shifting sideways along the small space between the coffee table and the side of the bed frame, he sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress sunk under him more than he expected, and the faint smell of alien laundry detergent rose up to his nose.

The feeling of homesickness was actually quite new for him. He'd lived in so many places in his life, moving from base to base. Even as a kid home had been a transitory thing as Dad had dragged them for 'vacations' near his latest business meeting. Their main home in the ranch house had been as close to home for John has he had had, but once mum had died... Home was now Atlantis, where he had a sense of purpose and belonging, but even the city was still a military base to which he was assigned.

Sitting on the side of this new bed, looking up at the glowing dividing curtain, he realised anew how much this new Political Marriage contract was going to change his life. He'd just signed up to even more transitory homes, and in cultures completely removed from his home galaxy. For almost half of every year he was going to have to spend his time with Teyla, either in the city or in Alliance space. When in Alliance space, he would have no idea what he'd be doing. He could be off to some battle, as they were now, or sat with Torren in Tjaru. And while that appealed to him in a lot of ways and could potentially really help Atlantis, it struck him now that this was how he was going to spend his nights. He'd be sleeping in alien beds on alien worlds, or wherever Teyla needed to be, and she didn't really want him here.

Thing was, he was starting to think he didn't want to be here either.

Looking at the glowing curtain, he knew he'd made a mistake in insisting on these shared quarters. Sure, he'd made a good point to her about not being able to dismiss him easily, but he hadn't really clocked the fact that it meant he was now going to have to be sharing her bathroom, sharing her living space. Essentially willingly torturing himself about their breakup.

Who would ever want to stay living with someone they'd just broken up with? It was a real special kind of torture. Even when he and Nancy had had the final talk about their marriage, he'd moved out that same day. He'd gone back a few times to pack up his things, but he'd never had all that much. Most went into storage. Some of it was still in storage in fact. John wondered if Dad still had some of his stuff up in the ranch's loftspace.

Well, it was just going to have to sit there because John certainly wasn't about to make contact with Dad again anytime soon. That ship had sailed and anything left behind in the family house wasn't that important.

He had the strange idle thought that if he travelled back to Earth while Teyla was with him, then she would have to go travel there too. He almost smiled at the thought of turning up at his Dad's place with Teyla at his side, maybe all decked out in her full Elite gear and swords.

Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

So much wasn't ever going to happen now.

He wiped a hand over his face.

She wanted to just move on with things, and, damn it, what was there to say to that? It was the sensible and reasonable thing to do. The grown up, political, and smart thing to do.

What could he say to that except agree? They were political allies and that was it now. Maybe with some time their friendship could be salvaged a bit, but...

He sighed into the half light, frowning at the glowing curtain. What the hell had he done?

He could hear her moving around on the other side of the curtain, his hearing straining for the sounds despite himself. The rustle of clothing, the sound of something being set down on a table...maybe onto her bedside table.

Then the creak of her mattress, sheets shifting against one another and a soft sigh.

The mattress creaked again and abruptly the light shut off, plunging the quarters into complete and total darkness.

He blinked into the almost suffocating completeness to the blackness, his eyes gradually adjusting, but not by much. There were no portholes in her quarters, few on the ship in fact, so there was no starlight, no shifting colours of hyperspace, just the thick darkness.

He glanced around in the dark, his eyes picking up a tiny single pinpoint of light to his left. He guessed it was the power light on her large wall screen. It was a faint, pale light that didn't highlight anything.

Looking away, he rubbed his hand around the back of his neck as his hearing strained again, listening to the overly complete silence of the room.

He should get into bed, go to sleep.

He had that ass-kicking in the morning and all. Except, there was something oddly soothing about the complete darkness now, about just sitting here. It was warm in here, and without windows, you'd never know they were on a spaceship, a pure vacuum just on the other side of the outer hull that was the backwall of her quarters. That thought wasn't all that comforting actually, though it wasn't all that new for him.

A shift of sound made him look round, which was useless because he couldn't make anything out in the dark. The sound came again – the sound of footfalls on the carpet, followed by the unmistakeable movement of the dividing curtain.

He froze, listening.

Was it Teyla? Coming around the curtain to speak to him? To...

He recognised a second later that there were too many footfalls on the carpet as they came around his side of the dividing curtain, and that there was a longer slither of sound that was Ketra's tail against the floor.

Disappointment was bitter, but not all that much of a surprise.

Teyla had made her view on all this very clear. She didn't want a relationship anymore, so she wasn't about to climb into his bed in the middle of the night...even if he wished she would.

For a brief second he toyed with the idea of going to her instead, of maybe sitting on the edge of her bed...no, she'd made her view clear, and he was pretty sure his heart wasn't going to be able to take another rejection.

She was right – they needed to move on.

He had Atlantis to think of now, to do the best he could so that his mistakes wouldn't damage his career, or Colonel Carter's. He worried on his lip as he wondered if the IOA had already taken her job away from her. No, the IOA never made any decisions that quick! She'd be safe until he got back, wouldn't she?

A wave of tiredness washed over him and he hung his head down, working out some kinks out the back of his neck with his hand. He smiled into the darkness as he listened to Ketra arranging her bed behind the couch still in its original place across the coffee table from him. He listened to the dragon clawing at the bed some more. She liked to plump and pile it up into a nest for her before she laid down on it. He heard her stepping onto the thick fabric, heard her tail bumping lightly against the back of the couch, and then her huffing loud breath as she settled down onto her prepared bed.

Everything went silent again.

He opened his eyes and lifting his left wrist, touching the button on the side that lit up the interior of his watch. 0230 hours. It was Atlantis time though, so not all that helpful really. He was going to have to talk to someone tomorrow about the ship's time. He couldn't remember the mental calculation required to work out the time difference between Atlantis and standard Alliance time. Athos time was pretty close to Atlantis, or at least it was in some seasons, since the day length varied considerably on Athos according to the season. He'd learnt something then at least, and it was useful to him now he was an Athosian husband.

With a sigh, he shifted around on the side of the bed as quietly as he could, lifting the sheets and sliding his legs under them. He laid back and folded up the thin Elite pillow and tucked it under the back of his head as he settled down.

The mattress creaked faintly under him, but it was comfortable enough. It wasn't as thick and comfortable looking as Teyla's bed had appeared in her sleeping area. She'd almost caught him staring at it earlier, but he had quickly looked away, just casually taking in her quarters. They'd never shared that particular bed, a fact of which he was desperately grateful tonight, but it didn't really alter any of the conflicting, somewhat depressing feelings swimming around inside him now as he stared up towards the ceiling in the complete darkness.

He woke suddenly. He couldn't remember having fallen asleep, but he was definitely awake again now. He had the sense of time having passed, but as he blinked awake all he could see was the thick darkness again. He felt heavy, as if he'd been in a real deep exhausted sleep, but he felt warm and comfortable, with the tiny exception of a faint ache in his back. He shifted over onto his right side to relieve it, idly missing his Atlantis bed once again. A swift refolding of the pillow under his cheek and he was comfortable again. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

A quiet scratch broke into his awareness though and he frowned sleepily against his pillow. Another scratch and a sense of something hunting him filtered into his sleepy state. A half dream of Kolya chasing him down through Tjaru mixed with the sound again, and this time he snapped awake. A primitive confused burst of panic had him envisioning someone breaking into Teyla's quarters to assassinate him in the dark. He blinked into the darkness, afraid like a child, only for his more intelligent adult brain to kick back in.

No one was going to break into Teyla's quarters. Kolya was god knew where.

He was safe.

Except the sense of something looming over him asserted itself abruptly and he could feel the literal warmth of something towering over his bed. He tensed, running through his mind exactly where his sidearm was under the bed. He could reach down and grab it up, but would he have enough time? He carefully pulled one arm free from the sheets...

A light huff and an abrupt light snuffle at his exposed elbow almost made him yelp, but in an instant he understood he was safe.

"Jeez, Ketra!" He whispered loudly at the dragon, his heart pounding in his chest as he relaxed against the mattress. The scratching sound repeated and he realised the sound was her claws...against the table top. He reached up into the dark and, as predicted, his hand met her thick muscular shoulder. She was stood on the coffee table, which was why it felt like she was looming over him. The scratches had been her moving over the table top to him, which probably meant she had been on the couch on the other side.

"You shouldn't be up there," he told the dragon quietly as he rubbed her shoulder and thick muscular chest. A soft rumble against his hand was her response. He patted her once more and withdrew his arm back under his sheets. "Come on, get down," he ordered vaguely against his pillow towards her unseen looming presence.

An oddly whiskery dragon nose suddenly snuffled into his ear. "Ketra!" He exclaimed again as he pushed the warm snout away and then rubbed at his itchy ear.

The mattress shifted slightly in front of him and he felt his sheet stretch as one of Ketra's feet took up residence on the bed alongside him. He knew what she was up to, the family collies had used to do this when John was a kid. They'd sneak their way onto the beds to sleep rather than on the floor.

John pushed at Ketra's thick shoulder, which was now far closer to him. "Down!" He ordered quietly. "And maybe Teyla doesn't need to find out about you sleeping on the couch, huh?"

He pushed again and this time she pulled back. The mattress lifted by him and he heard and felt her step down onto the strip of floor accessible between the side of his bed and the side of the coffee table. Except, he was almost certain not all of her had made it down. He reached out and, sure enough, her back legs were still up on the table.

"Down!" He whispered, employing a good military tone this time, and with a huff she began shifting around by the bed, bumping against it as she climbed properly down to the floor. He couldn't make out any of her in the dark, but he could feel her warm presence taking up the space beside the bed. He reached out again and scratched along her back.

He felt her chin settle on the edge of the bed near his pillow, her breath warm against his forehead.

"Good Girl," he told her as he stroked her back again, the motion rather hypnotic.

He heard and felt her sigh by his pillow and her back end lowered as she sat down on the floor, her chin still propped up on the bed's edge.

He gently, sleepily scratched around her closest shoulder as he listened to her soft breathing. It was rather like having a living teddy bear beside you – if the teddy bear looked like an alien dinosaur and could kill Wraith.

He was aware of slipping into sleep this time, as he drifting in and out of a new dream. In it he was back in his childhood bed in the ranch house, Mum tucking him into bed, asking him which teddy he wanted to cuddle. It was one of his youngest memories, and it merged into dreams of Ketra and him hunting Wraith through Athosian forests as he slid fully into sleep.

He woke abruptly the next time, light snapping his brain awake suddenly. He blinked and winced against the new light, his head muzzy and his mind confused. He rose up from his pillow, frowning at the wall only inches away from him. He was on his left side, draped over the edge of his bed, and he felt very warm. He struggled against the sheet over him, which was stretched tight, holding him down. He got one arm free and rose up on his elbow, looking over his shoulder towards the light that had woken him. The dividing curtain glowed brightly across the room, but his sleepy attention dropped almost immediately to Ketra. She was curled up on his bed, her back against him, her long tail draped over the side.

The dividing curtain shifted on its railing, the rattling noise loud to John's early morning ears. Ketra woke instantly at the sound, and with a wiggle and lots of jostling of John, she hopped down off the side of his bed. Having saved himself from falling off the side of the bed at her jostling, he frowned now at the good two thirds of the bed that she had taken up. Typical. Just like with the collies as a kid.

The dividing curtain was suddenly pulled aside, spilling more light over John as Teyla stepped into the growing view of her side of the room. He winced at the light as he sat up properly and, out of pure habit, reached up to flatten his hair. Not that Teyla hadn't seen him with very messed up hair before now... usually she had been the one to mess it up.

His eyes recovered from the light attack and his mind waking up more fully, he looked round to watch as Teyla finished her good morning greeting with Ketra and now pushed the curtain fully aside.

He realised she was fully dressed, in fact her swords were already on her back. How deeply had he been sleeping to sleep through her moving around? He decided to blame yesterday's craziness and the warm dragon sleeping at his back.

"Good morning," Teyla said brightly, and politely.

"Mornin'," he croaked out and quickly cleared his throat.

"I am sorry to wake you abruptly, but I have an urgent meeting to attend to, and Numfar will be by soon to take you and Lieutenant Ford for First Meal," she reported, all awake and talking fast.

John nodded as he squashed his hair down a bit more. She was wearing one of her Athosian outfits again. The top was cropped and made of deep red, browns and purple fabrics sewn together to give a military appearance, as if there was a metal breastplate beneath the material. Of course there wasn't, especially because he could see the soft rise of her breasts above the fabric. His eyes, traitorous things that they were, followed the line of her tattoos where they flowed down into one side of her cleavage. His even more traitorous brain supplied him with detailed memories of what she looked like under her clothes. He lowered his eyes, only to encounter the strip of bared golden Teyla skin below her cropped top and above the thick waistband of her tight brown trousers.

He registered the holster on her hip, into which she was currently sliding a stunner. He realised she had said something about an "urgent" meeting.

"Everything okay?" He asked as she moved into his side of the room.

"It is simply in preparation for the approaching battle," she replied. "There is nothing to be concerned about."

He nodded, whilst casually ensuring that his bed sheets were settled over his groin. His eyes moved back to that strip of bare skin again.

"New sword harness?" He asked, his mouth working by itself.

She seemed thrown by his question, so much so that she faltered in her steps as she headed towards the door. "Yes," she replied.

He nodded. Elkaska must have found a new one. Her uncle was always finding her new improved harnesses for the scabbards for her swords. This new one was slim and almost invisible against her top. She wasn't wearing her coat today, just her top and trousers, over dark brown boots – as well as the two swords and a stunner at her hip. Still, he knew that was a small amount of weaponry for any Elite, so this was her casual look on the ship. On Athos she only wore one sword while moving around the Governing Buildings, sometimes with a knife at her back. Here, he guessed they were moving into enemy territory soon...

The mission. Yes, they were on a mission, and with that recall, so came back some of the less happy feelings and the memory that he wasn't supposed to be checking her out anymore.

"Once we are closer to the Outer Lantana region all the crew will be briefed on the mission ahead of us," Teyla continued as she reached up to the controls to the door. Ketra was at her side, and John noticed the dragon looked perky and bright – well, she should since she had spent the night sleeping on a nice warm bed for a change.

"Good luck with your training session today," Teyla added, her smile strained, but seemed sincere. This was the "moving on" thing then.

He smiled as best he could in return. "Thanks."

He wanted to make a joke, to ease the tension; maybe "_Have a nice day at work, Dear_", but it felt empty and she probably wouldn't get the reference anyway. So, he just nodded, trying desperately not to feel uncomfortable.

She nodded at him, her lips together as she offered him another strained smile before she looked away. She triggered open the door and stepped out into the corridor quickly, disappearing from view. Ketra followed her, though the dragon paused to look back at John.

John found himself smiling reassuringly at Ketra before she disappeared too, following her mistress down the corridor outside.

John frowned at the strange moment, which was made stranger as the door slid shut, leaving him abruptly alone in Teyla's quarters.

He let out a heavy sigh. At least they were being polite with each other, even if she had practically legged it out of here.

He looked round at her quarters, aware that the light was still on in her side of the room. He had no idea where the control was to that light. Should he poke around over there and shut it off before he left?

At which point he remembered she had said Numfar would be coming by with Ford. Ford...

John rolled onto his side and reached down under his bed, pulling out his radio. He pressed two clicks into it – his check in message with Ford.

Two clicks came back instantly – the kid was okay, and clearly had his radio with him. That might mean he was on his way already with Numfar.

It was the impetus that John needed, so he scrabbled out from under his dragon-warmed bed sheets and headed swiftly across the room towards the bathroom at the far end.

Today was the first day he and Ford would be seen by some of the crew and tested for the first time. They had to put on a good show for Atlantis and Earth, and that fact gave John some sudden purpose and drive.

Things with Teyla were stable, but hardly comfortable, but maybe he and Ford could continue the good relations with the rest of the crew.

There was work to be done, after all, he was now a Political Husband within the Alliance, and he was going to make damn sure he wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

00000

Halling had not had the best of nights.

Nightmares were hardly a new experience for him. As an Elite he had seen more horrors than most, which provided his subconscious with plenty of material for such nightmares.

However, last night's nightmare still lingered with him. He could not recall it all, but he did vividly recall stalking Wraith through a dark dense forest, snow falling around him, and his Mother at his side. In the brightness of day, Halling could not recall his mother's face all that clearly, since she had been lost to the Wraith almost a lifetime ago, but in the dream he had recognised her with great clarity. Part of him felt a sense of renewed lost that he could not recall her features any clearer now he was awake.

In the dream she had stayed at his side, hunting Wraith with him...perhaps even seeking out the one that had taken her life from her. Halling had struggled with the hunt, tripping over falling trees, getting stuck in heavy snow drifts. The memories of the Glisi homeworld were obviously imbedded in the nightmare, but there had also been flashes of Athosian fields in the snow. He had felt cold throughout the nightmare, unable to feel any warmth at all.

But, through it all, burning with a fire that he could not feel inside, had been Sitayi' watching eyes.

She had been staring at him all throughout his hunt, her burning eyes haunting him and melting the snow with fierce flames he could not feel.

He had woken in a heavy sweat, his heart pounding and his sheets tangled around his legs as if he had been running in his sleep.

An early morning sparring session had not chased away all of the residual adrenaline from the nightmare, and his usual cool shower afterwards had not been comfortable. He had turned it up to its hottest setting just to force a contrast to the coldness of the nightmare.

"...our nearest estimate is that the explosion was internally driven," Si stated across the table and Halling forced himself to pay closer attention to the meeting. It was vital and important.

The meeting had been planned anyway, but with the night's readings and reports having come in, there was one new piece of news. The damaged Hive ship that the Fleet had spied near the Nest System yesterday had taken up an outer orbit of the system in the early hours of the morning, only for it to explode an hour or so later.

"There's no evidence that the Wraith from the Nest System destroyed it," Seifer clarified. He was on the end of his long night rotation, and having been the one to see all of the reports and file them, he was this morning's expert.

"No weapons signatures," Nalla concluded from Halling's right.

"None," Seifer confirmed. "We had three separate ships watching the Hive and all of their readings confirm that the explosion began internally."

"Did any Wraith leave the Hive?" Teyla asked from Halling's other side. "To join the Nest? Perhaps they set the self destruct on purpose?"

"Nothing approached or departed from the Hive," Seifer reported.

"The Hive's systems must have been unstable from the attack that crippled it then," Nalla concluded, "which explains why they maintained a wide orbit of the Nest and did not go in."

"And the trip there would have damaged the Hive further,," Seifer reported as he triggered up various screens of data on the tactical display table top. "I tracked it back via the local probes and monitoring stations along the border and found evidence of small repeated hyperspace windows opening and closing on the furthest edges of the scanners' ranges. I think the Hive was only able to sustain hyperspace for short periods, either because the engine was already failing or because the ship's superstructure couldn't handle it. Its last hyperspace window collapsed close to the Outer Lantana battle, which is why we saw it passing by behind the battle using sublight engines only."

"Limping home indeed," Si intoned.

"There was plenty of link chatter between the Hive and the Nest as it approached," Oneakka stated as he reached forward and tapped one screen, bringing up masses of data for them to see. "The Nest Wraith have changed their carrier codes again, so no translation as yet," Oneakka added.

"They've started adding new masking covers too," Seifer muttered.

Halling looked back to the data with more interest. "They're learning too quickly from us," he muttered.

The masking frequencies were used as a secondary encrypting process for link messages across the Alliance. The Wraith had experimented with similar techniques in the past, but until now had struggled to add the masking programmes to their own data feeds. It appeared that they had finally learnt how to do it.

"Their masking isn't hugely sophisticated though," Oneakka added. "But, it's the most advanced they've gotten with it. I'm not convinced it's their own."

"Why?" Nalla asked, all eyes moving to Oneakka.

It occurred to Halling, as he looked across the glowing table at his friend, that out of all of them, Oneakka looked the most rested. His skin looked bright and refreshed and his eyes shone. The man's recent successes in finally tracking down associates of Iketani had given him a new calmness. It pleased Halling, because he knew how much the matter meant to Oneakka, to all of them. Oneakka had, once again, proven that he could achieve what many thought impossible, or above his own ability.

"The techs think this masking is a hybrid of Wraith code and human code," Oneakka reported. "Only it's nothing we recognise directly. I suspect it's from outside our territory. I'm inclined to get Seeal to look at it, see if she recognises any of it."

Halling glanced at his friend's face again. With each day Oneakka appeared to be placing more faith in the ex-criminal's skills. Halling could not disagree with the plan though, since the woman continued to prove useful – her and Oneakka's bickering and arguing aside.

"Do we have any idea why the Hive's systems failed so long after the attack upon it?" Teyla asked. "Normally time provides Wraith tech the chance to heal, not for the damage to grow worse."

Halling had to agree with that.

"The repeated small hyperspace jumps prevented adequate healing," Nalla suggested. "They might even have sped up the damage which became irreparable."

"Do we have any further intell on the initial damage?" Teyla pushed.

Seifer reached forward, his face drawn and tired. "Not much more than before. The underside appears to have been impacted with something, possibly another ship or even an asteroid. The damage was extensive and lower levels were exposed to space. There were signs of the ship repairing itself, but not at any great speed, most likely because of the repeated trauma suffered during the short hyperspace jumps. However, analysis suggests that the final explosion originated from deeper in the ship, away from damaged sections, which is strange."

All eyes watched the screens, one of which showed a slowed video of the Hive detonating and another the readings taken from the three observing Fleet ships.

"Secondary systems failing perhaps, which set off a chain reaction?" Nalla suggested.

Halling frowned at the video as it replayed. "Are we able to estimate how long ago the Hive was damaged?"

"From the healing that we could see, taking into account the estimated damage of the hyperspace jumps," Seifer mulled, "the best guess from the techs is ten hours prior."

"Ten hours?" Nalla repeated with surprise. The Hive should have healed far quicker than that.

Seifer nodded. "The hyperspace exposure would have been extensive on the compromised hull."

"Which makes their decision to reach the Nest System all the more interesting," Teyla concluded out loud for them all.

"Do we know what region of space the Hive was in when it was damaged?" Nalla asked.

"By tracking it back along the route of its small hyperspace jumps," Seifer replied, "we estimate that it was damaged in an area just beyond our border – across from the Arkinian system."

All eyes focused on one screen that displayed basic data on the Arkinian system situation just within their border. It had been cleared of Wraith reasonably recently, but, as there had only been one moon base in the empty region, the Wraith had not fought all that hard for it. There were no planets with breathable atmospheres in the system, with the exception of the one moon on which the Wraith had had a small base. Even on that moon, the atmosphere was thin and the landscape barren.

"There is not much in or around that system," Teyla voiced for them all as they took in the data.

"The local border monitoring system was the first to detect the Hive, and judging by the damage seen on those scans, the Hive was most like damaged less than an hour prior," Seifer concluded.

Halling frowned at the news - the Hive had been damaged extremely close to their border. In terms of space travel, it was just outside their door.

"Why would the Hive risk returning to the Nest in the state that it was in?" Si considered again. "The logical procedure following such damage would be to find a safe location and allow the ship to repair, while reporting the situation to the Nest via subspace communications."

Halling nodded with that assessment. It made no sense that the Wraith would risk their lives, most importantly their Queen, and their ship in such a way. Even if the ship was critical, the Wraith could have jumped to a closer planet with a Portal far faster, and from there evacuated the crew via fighters down through the Portal.

"Perhaps it was being pursued by whatever damaged it," Nalla considered.

"There is nothing in the scans to suggest that's the case," Seifer reported.

"Maybe its pursuers were further out than our scans could detect," Nalla replied. "The most likely attacker would be other Wraith. Could they even have taken over the Hive and were attempting to use it to infiltrate the Nest System?"

"That would have been far easier done by using fighters begging for entrance than by using the damaged Hive," Halling replied.

"Or there was simply something vital onboard," Oneakka suggested. "Their queen, something technological, or even simply vital information they didn't want to risk transmitting over a distance."

Halling nodded. "Any or all of those are possible. Breaking their latest codes will hopefully provide us the answer."

"That will take time, especially with this new masking code," Seifer put in as he rubbed one hand over his face, only partially concealing a yawn. "Plus the fact that what the Fleet were able to record is incomplete. It is only the fact that the Fleet detected so much chatter between the Nest and the attacking Wraith force at Outer Lantana that we can even recognise that new code."

"It must still be decoded," Si stated. "The techs can keep working on it, and if there's no success in a few hours, I suggest we allow Seeal to look at it. She has continued to be a very useful resource."

"Perhaps even those from Atlantis as well?" Nalla suggested. "They might have some knowledge of the Wraith's codes?"

All eyes turned subtly to Teyla. "I do not think that Major Sheppard or Lieutenant Ford have direct knowledge of coding, but we could ask, or perhaps it may be more useful to ask Atlantis directly where we know their mostly knowledgeable techs could analyse the information."

"And risk them not sharing all that they discover with us?" Seifer considered doubtfully. "We should not share something so secure until we have wasted all other options."

"The Training Facility can work on the code with our people, then Seeal, and after that we can consider Atlantis as another resource if we have not been successful," Si summarised.

Everyone nodded their agreement. Halling glanced at Teyla, wondering how she felt about the comments regarding Atlantis. He saw nothing to her expression but thoughtfulness as she focused down on various data screens. He had not had much chance to speak with her alone yesterday, but he had heard over First Meal that Major Sheppard was sleeping on a spare bed in her quarters. He wondered how such close quarters would affect matters. Perhaps she had taken Sheppard as her lover once more, since now they were married. Halling suspected it not to be the case however, considering her intentions prior to her marriage. Distance had been her aim, as well as the gift of her marriage contract to the Alliance, but he had to wonder how her marriage ceremony had changed matters for her now.

Unbidden, his own memories of her marriage ceremony circled his mind, all of them focusing on Sitayi' staring eyes.

"We are still scheduled to arrive at the near edge of Lantana tomorrow," Si continued. "The latest reports and probe scans are all promising still."

"Soon the moment will be upon us," Nalla uttered quietly from Halling's right. He nodded, as did the others who had heard her.

Halling glanced around the table, taking in the various expressions of determination and anticipation, with the exception of Seifer, who looked quite tired.

"I am on Central Station rotation now," Halling reminded them, but mostly Seifer. "I will confer with the Training Facility and the techs, and update the latest scan results as they come in."

All nodded.

"I have not yet had First Meal," Si stated as he uncrossed his large dark arms. He and Oneakka had been sparring first thing, a session that Halling had missed due to his impromptu early sparing session he had hoped to chase away his dreams. He was rather glad now he had not sparred with Oneakka and Si, since they had overrun. "I will eat," Si continued, "and then perhaps look in on the morning crew training session."

All eyes moved back to Teyla. All knew that Major Sheppard and his companion were being included in this morning's group training session. She simply nodded gracefully.

"The strays are being adding into the fray today," Seifer joked from his end of the tactical display.

Teyla frowned at him. Halling glanced from her to Oneakka, but his friend was focused on going through the transmission data from the Hive.

"Maybe the goat should join in to be brought into line, Seifer joked again.

"Those from Atlantis are able warriors, I assure you," Teyla corrected him.

Halling felt he should say something supportive.

"Maybe you'd like to spar with the goat, Seifer," Oneakka got in first though and there was some sniggering.

"I thought it wasn't a goat?" Halling put in to Oneakka across the screens him.

Oneakka smiled briefly towards him, but quickly returned his focus back down on the screen before him.

"I am sure all will do well in their first training session," Teyla put in. "Madesh has trained with enough of us and the recruits at the Training Facility to take easily to the session this morning."

"It's his acceptance into the crew that could be an issue," Nalla suggested. "There is a lot of mistrust towards him, as well as fear."

"They call him The Lie Detector," Oneakka informed them, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You'd love that ability," Halling said to him.

"I do okay," Oneakka returned.

"With your clichéd stare and glare technique?" Seifer teased.

"If it works use it," Oneakka glared across at Seifer, working the power at him.

"Whatever," Seifer returned after a beat, looking away, not liking the weight of Oneakka's intense direct gaze. Few people did.

"Shall we reconvene for the late meeting?" Si stated, clearly looking forward to his First Meal, and Halling could see that Seifer was eager to get to his bed for some rest.

The time of the meeting was agreed and the Elite moved away from the tactical station. Selected his preferred stool, Halling settled down at the display table top, calling up the latest scans to see how much Seifer had managed to file and categorise. He had done most of the latest data burst, but more would arrive soon. Halling tapped out commands for the techs working on the codes to be decrypted, and sent the Nest to Hive transmissions via secure link off to the Training Facility. He would receive confirmation they had received it within moments, so he waited patiently.

The confirmation from the techs arrived first. They reported little progress so far, which was unsurprising, Wraith code was difficult to break, especially with such new masking code now added.

He triggered up the video of the Hive explosion once more, watching it carefully, looking for something that no one else might have noticed, or the scans either. Nothing jumped out at him, so he watched it twice through again before the confirmation came through from the Training Facility.

Pleased, he turned his focus to the last probe scan Seifer had almost completed through the night shift. He watched the data rolling across the screen, and he tapped through it all, his mind quietening. This was just what he needed – focus and distraction. Something important to do, not sit around and worry over one foolish stare down a long crowded room.

He was not one to fall to anxiousness, but any time he thought of Sitayi' eyes, her drawn face and dismissing behaviour...he could feel the anxiety rising up his throat. Such feelings were easy to control for an Elite, and therefore he worked on well used breathing techniques to lower his heart rate and calm his respiration.

"What's wrong?" Oneakka's question had been quiet, but since Halling hadn't even noticed his presence, it shocked his heart rate back up.

Halling looked around to find Oneakka stood just to the right. "I thought you had left," Halling said unnecessarily.

"Just checked the navigation," Oneakka explained. "What's wrong?" He asked again.

Halling trusted Oneakka with his life and knew that anything he shared with his friend would be kept in the strictest confidence, yet Halling did not feel comfortable talking with anyone about this matter. Not yet.

It had just been an intent stare...from a seer.

"I did not sleep well," Halling replied quickly, being honest enough in that. "The nightmare is lingering," he added.

All Elite understood nightmares.

Oneakka nodded, but his eyes remained narrowed. Halling knew well enough that his friend would know there was more to the situation, but hopefully Oneakka would just assume that the nightmare had been particularly distressing. Oneakka himself had shared a couple of his worst nightmares with Halling over the years, and those small token sharings had almost turned into nightmares of Halling's own.

He still remembered the day Oneakka had returned from his solo mission of vengeance to his dead homeworld, his body burnt, near death, and forever scarred in ways seen and unseen. He and Oneakka had been friends since the first day they had met in the Training Facility as recruits. Despite their age difference and quite different personalities they had strangely respected each other from the start. Halling still remembered with vivid horrifying detail how Oneakka had looked on that day of his blood vengeance. It had taken a lot of surgery to repair Oneakka's torn face, not that he had been aware of them, as Oneakka had lain in a comatose state for days. Halling had watched though, for he had remained close by, watching over his friend.

He had not wanted Oneakka to waking up alone into a world with no more of his people or family. He hadn't wanted Oneakka to be alone. Yet, Oneakka had done as much with his gruff demeanour afterwards. He had always been an honest man, but it had only been after he lost his people that Oneakka had found a new level of direct honesty. He had no longer cared about "petty" things, and had striven to cut straight to the point in all matters. It was a characteristic that Halling appreciated, even if it had clearly isolated Oneakka from others. However, that said, Elite should not care about such things as looking after other people's feelings – at least that was what Oneakka believed. Perhaps he was right, but right now, in this moment, Halling knew that he needed to shy away from the truth.

So he lied to his friend.

"It is nothing," he assured Oneakka, "I will be alright."

Oneakka didn't respond though, he just watched him in silence. Halling could see the thoughts behind his friend's blue eyes, but could not interpret them himself. For though they were close friends, he and Oneakka did not always think alike, or love alike.

Thoughts of Methren arrived, as they so often did for Halling when talking with Oneakka. They had almost lost their old hard-won friendship over her love, and then in resentment over her loss. It had not been Oneakka's fault that the Wraith had killed Methren before she had made her choice of prospect lover clear, but Halling truly believed that he had been her true choice. Even now, years later, he still felt a touch of resentment towards Oneakka to think that he had meant as much to her as Halling.

Why was life so complicated and strangely painful?

He looked away from Oneakka, back down to the data he had to process.

"I'm assuming you're going to visit the training session yourself?" He asked in order to distract his friend's sharp insightful stare.

"Should check Madesh does well," Oneakka agreed, taking the obvious change in conversation subject.

Halling glanced back at him with a faint frown. "And Seeal too."

Oneakka shrugged one shoulder dismissively, which surprised Halling. "She can fight," Oneakka dismissed. "Sheppard and Ford should be interesting."

Halling agreed. "We have not seen Atlantis fighting techniques in detail."

Oneakka nodded. "Should be good," he smiled.

"You're going to do one of your take over sessions, aren't you," Halling accused him. Oneakka was known to usurp training sessions at the Training Facility to the point that it was almost legendary among the recruits. Hearts dropped to see him enter the training hall. Recruits regularly collapsed, passed out, cried, and even quit when Oneakka got involved.

"No," Oneakka responded instantly, but rather unconvincingly.

Halling looked at him pointedly.

"Tyoosi and Curzon are running it and deserve to keep authority for the first session," Oneakka argued, surprisingly Halling again. It was not usually Oneakka's way to care about others in such a context. If he wanted to do something to improve training standards, he usually just did it. Of course this was a somewhat different situation, with Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford officially there as political allies. Plus Madesh was essentially Oneakka's protégé.

"I am sure Madesh will do fine," Halling reassured him. "And those from Atlantis will keep up, I'm sure."

Oneakka nodded. "Should be interesting," he smiled and turned away.

"Enjoy," Halling called to his retreating back.

Halling watched Oneakka exit Central Station, leaving him alone with just a handful of duty staff working away at their stations.

Soft conversations murmured in the background as Halling returned his attention to his work, focusing intently, keeping his wayward mind directed solely on processing scan results. It was important work and he dove into it eagerly.

He didn't need to be thinking about things that would distract him.

He was an Elite.

Yet, as he worked away, he almost felt as if Sitayi were in the room with him now, her eyes burning into his back.

00000  
TBC


	28. Training Day

00000

**Chapter 28 – Training Day**

Breakfast on the Sythus had been pretty much the Elite standard of random weird looking food that turned out to taste pretty good. John hadn't eaten a lot though, knowing that the big training session was fast approaching. Ford, however, hadn't agreed and had stuffed his face full.

Ford and Numfar had arrived at Teyla's quarters just as John had finished dressing, and together they had headed to the canteen; one guard silently in tow. Ford had had a pretty good night in the barracks by the sounds of his quick whispered report as they had selected their strange alien breakfast. Apparently the kid hadn't met any negative reactions from the crew in his barracks, and a couple had been friendly. Of course, John couldn't imagine the crew being so stupid as to upset Teyla by being rude to Ford, but there were more subtle ways of excluding someone among a military group. John had been subjected to a few versions of it over the years, and he was pleased that, so far, he and Ford seemed to be holding up Atlantis' corner.

Of course that might all soon change once the whole training session kicked in. But, John was determined to put on as good a show as he could, after all he'd sparred with two Elite now, so he was getting used to being knocked onto his ass as humbly as possible.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to put up a good fight though.

He kept that solidly in mind as he and Ford followed Numfar into the crowded large Elite gym. It was the same gym that Si had beaten John up in before, so it was familiar ground at least.

All eyes of the scattered waiting crew were on him and Ford as they entered. John kept his chin up, his shoulders relaxed and even, and smiled politely at anyone who made direct eye contact with him.

Numfar had explained that the crew was split into several groups that were rotated through the various training sessions each day, and as such there was only going to be about thirty crew in the group this morning. Only problem with that was that Numfar had proudly proclaimed that today's group was his own and that they were considered to be the most "talented" of the crew. Considering that this was an Elite ship, John translated "talented" to actually mean "scary good at killing people".

He wasn't really looking forward to it, but he and Ford would put on a good show. After all that was the whole point – it was old school playground or freshman rules.

John was used to the feeling of nervous determination that fluttered in his gut as he followed Numfar to one side of the large room. Most of his life had been made up of stepping into situations where he was put to the test, either by instructors, enemies, or gravity. You didn't get to be a pilot without being able to deal with stress. Besides, nothing could be as bad as the last couple of days had been for him. A good workout and sparring session was just what he needed. Exercise wasn't confusing or complicated with feelings and political crap. All he and Ford needed to do was keep up and maybe learn something.

He could do that...hopefully.

Reaching a spare space to the right side of the gym, John turned and considered the rest of the room. Ford took up position next to him, the kid's chest a little overly puffed out with a forced show of confidence. John could understand the reaction though, because everyone in here looked in real good shape; even some that looked more at home in Rodney's lab. There were a lot of bulging biceps and very lean bodies on show as most of them went through various stretches or stood around gossiping, their eyes repeatedly slipping to him and Ford.

Yep, these were clearly the "talented" group. Great.

"We're gonna need a bigger flashbang," John concluded to Ford

Ford sighed heavily, his confident front slipping for a second. "Will you let that go," he muttered.

John grinned as he shifted his attention towards the open doorway through which two men arrived. All eyes shifted round to them, voices dropping without any shouted order.

John could kind of understand why. Tyoosi, their head of security, stopped in the doorway, his arms crossed and his gaze moving slowly around the room, whilst the other man strode forward into the centre of the room.

"Everyone better be here," the man stated loudly, "and better be warmed up." The voice was loud and strong and emerged from a face that you didn't forget.

One eye was missing, with a massive scar cutting diagonally across his face, down to a chin that was missing a large chunk of flesh. It was all old damage, all healed up, but a man who survived that and was still shouting orders on an Elite ship was someone to pay attention to. Clearly the guy would get along fine with Sumner.

Not overly tall, the man still seemed to fill the massive gym, his presence dominating the space. "We'll start off with a full out run!" He ordered loudly as he pointed back towards the open doorway in which Tyoosi still stood, watching everyone silently. "I want four laps of this deck," the Drill Sergeant continued, "Anyone who doesn't know the route," his one eye shifted towards John and Ford, "had best follow the person in front of them. Last one back's number equals the number of today's workout. GO!"

The gym's occupants exploded towards the doorway, jumping forward from a standing start. Racing towards the door, they parted around the solidly stood Tyoosi like the Red Sea.

"Come on," Numfar ordered quickly as he appeared by John's side. "Quickly," he waved them with him as he raced towards the overly full doorway. Everyone was clearly desperate not to be the last out, but with Tyoosi in the way he limited how quickly everyone could get out.

"Sure, got to start your drills with the race warm up," John uttered as he and Ford followed, hitting the back of the queue heading out past Tyoosi.

"What's the equals the number of today thing about?" Ford asked Numfar as they moved forward slowly.

"Every crewmember has an assigned crew number made up of nine digits. The last back into the gym has their numbers all added together, and the total is the number of each exercise we have to complete during the training session," Numfar explained. They were almost at Tyoosi and were pretty much going to be at the back of the race, so they would have some ground to cover once out of the gym. "My number is 283769003, so that's 38 of every exercise," Numfar whispered as they reached Tyoosi.

John made sure to nod and smile politely to the ship's Security Chief as they reached the doorway, and then John tried not to barge into the man's shoulder as he squeezed past out through the doorway. And then finally he and Ford were in the corridor outside, the rest of the group all ahead, breaking into a run and disappearing round the left-hand corner ahead.

"Come on," Numfar encouraged as he broke into a full run.

John put some power into his legs, easily catching up with Numfar as they turned the first corner. He guessed the route would be around the outermost corridors of this level of the Sythus, so he estimated that the whole run wouldn't be that far off the distance he ran around the City most mornings. The problem wasn't finishing the route though, it was making sure they didn't come in last.

"It's like being back at the Academy," he grinned at Ford who was at his side, easily keeping up for now.

"Yes, Sir," Ford grinned back.

The route turned out to be as John predicted, racing around the outermost corridors, which meant at some points the corridor stretched ahead so that he could see the other runners stretched out along the corridor, some overtaking and some already falling behind. Numfar had some good speed to him, and together they overtook a small group.

The second lap round started to thin the numbers a bit further, and this time John led the overtake of about ten more runners, one of whom looked like he had a nasty cold that had him wheezing and spluttering.

Ford was puffing by the time they overtook a few more, the second lap hitting the third. By the time they started the fourth lap they were about halfway through the pack, by John's estimation, and keeping up nicely.

It felt as good as John had hoped it would to get moving. Sweat slicked his back, sticking his t-shirt to his skin, but he could feel the warmth and good working ache to his legs. For the first time in two days he felt better about the world.

Halfway round the fourth lap, and he was several strides still ahead of Numfar and Ford. He choose to stick with them, not pulling ahead to show off. The point was that they would come in front of the middle now, which was good enough.

Everyone else around them was panting, which was a relief, and stamina and stride length were making all the difference now.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he checked on Ford to see the kid looking a bit rough. It was probably the breakfast slowing him down. As long as he didn't throw up though – that wouldn't look good in front of the rest of the group.

Soon enough though John he led them round the last corner back towards the gym and ran back inside to find the Drill Sergeant and Tyoosi stood in the centre of the room watching everyone arrive. They clocked him as soon as he entered, and, as a small show, John jogged past them, not dropping into a tired walk as many were doing.

He slowed as he reached the same small empty spot by the right wall, and finally stopped with great relief. Ford pulled up next to him, panting, and sweaty. Numfar was at the kid's side and grinned happily to John as he too leant forward and wiped his forehead.

"Come on, an elderly Wraith Drone could run faster than you!" The Drill Sergeant was yelling towards the rest of the runners exploding into the gym. At least everyone looked as flushed and tired as John felt as he stretched out his legs.

"Who's he?" John quietly asked Numfar, indicating the Drill Sergeant.

"Curzon," Numfar replied between breaths. "He was a...Vancet Military leader...fought with the Elite in a battle...killed a Queen..."

John glanced back at Curzon, who was continuing to shout the apparently universal standard of drill sergeant insults at the late arrivals. Now the guy was stood further forward, John could see the black line of ink around the back of Curzon's neck.

"He was badly hurt..." Numfar continued.

"No shit," Ford muttered.

"The Elite saved him, and he pledged his loyalty to them," Numfar finished, his breathing back under control.

"Ru, you're lucky Hannu's not well," Curzon shouted at the last two runners entered the gym. The first was a shorter man who definitely looked like one of Rodney's crowd, who was clearly struggling to breathe, but not as much as the last man to arrive, who was the one with the heavy cold. John was impressed the guy had made it round at all with that streaming nose and all the wheezing.

"Hannu, take the rest of the session off, you did good," Curzon stated loudly.

Hannu looked faintly embarrassed, but nodded as he quietly collapsed against a wall. Several of his colleagues checked on him, but he waved them away and dug out more tissues from his pants pocket.

Curzon turned on the spot, taking in the circle of recovering crew. "Since Hannu's number totals only twenty, you are all very lucky today. I want twenty pushes, twenty press-downs, and then turns. Go!"

Suddenly John and Ford were the only people stood upright. John quickly dropped to the floor, pleased to see that push-ups were the same in the Pegasus galaxy. Curzon led the count of each push-up, everyone shouting the numbers along with him. It wasn't at a nice steady slow speed either.

"Six, seven. Come on Ru!" Curzon called as he circled the centre of the mass of push-ups. "Kerza lower that backside. Nine," he caught up. "Ru hold your core muscles tighter, you look after the engine core for all of us so look after your own."

Tyoosi was giving instructions too as he circled opposite Curzon. "Nose to the floor, people."

"Twelve," Curzon shouted, sounding close to John's head. "I can't hear you men from Atlantis counting."

"Thirteen," John shouted extra loud. "Fourteen."

"Seeal keep that back straight," Tyoosi warned across the room. "Ru keep pushing. Eighteen."

"Keep those legs straight Eva," Tyoosi ordered. "Better."

"And Twenty," Curzon shouted. "Hold press-down for count of twenty, go!"

John looked round panting, seeing Ford doing the same. The crew were holding the push-up position about halfway down. John held the position, feeling his arms strain.

"Back straight, Sheppard," Tyoosi said from the left and John lowered his hips, forcing better form and making his stomach tighten. "Ford, keep that position. Hold it."

"Fleta, Madesh, and Toj to the lower position," Curzon ordered. "You three think you have the biggest shoulders, then let's put them to the test. Keep counting!"

"Ten," John managed to say out loud, but his shoulders and arms were shaking now. Someone's arms gave out to the left. A female voice was swearing after each number to the right.

"Thirteen," Ford uttered through clenched teeth next to John.

"Good, Eva," Curzon stated as he and Tyoosi' boots paced round.

"Sixteen," Tyoosi called, and people were groaning with the strain now.

"Everyone drop lower for the last few counts," Curzon instructed. "Lower than that Seeal."

John lowered himself, his arms shaking, his nose precariously close to the floor. Oddly, he noted how clean the gym's floor was, ignoring the obvious occasional stains of splattered blood.

No one but Curzon, Tyoosi, and a few show offs were counting loudly now, everyone else was grunting and swearing in some cases.

"Twenty," Curzon confirmed and there was a massive chorus of relieved groans and the sound of about thirty bodies dropping flat to the floor.

"Now turns, start raised belly up for count one," Curzon called.

John pushed himself up off the floor and looked round to see everyone was in a reversed push-up starting position, their bodies held up on straight arms, stomachs facing the ceiling. He turned and set his palms flat on the floor to either side, feeling the hold engaging an all new set of previously ignored muscles.

"Everyone ready?" Curzon asked in what was clearly an amused tone. "Madesh, get those arms extended. If those from Atlantis can do it first time so can you." John felt a momentarily burst of pleasure at that. "And one!"

Everyone abruptly turned over back into the push-up position, facing down to the floor again. Falling behind, John and Ford were the last to get into position. However, as soon as they were in place, everyone was switching back round to the starting position looking up at the ceiling again.

"Keep up, Atlantis," Curzon shouted. "Two. Turn those bodies faster, people. There's no falling behind when facing the Wraith. We want to be the best we can be, the fittest, strongest, fastest we can possibly be to uphold the principles of the Elite, do we not?"

"Yes we do!" Shouted the entire gym.

"Four!" Tyoosi called as everyone worked between the two positions, hands slapping to the floor, knees hitting the ground and muttered swearing.

"Choudfy," Curzon said loudly, "I saw that, start that one again. We are all the best that can be found in the Alliance, are we not?"

"Yes we are!" Everyone shouted, or at least as loudly as people could get, but they were clearly putting their hearts into it.

John's arms were about ready to give up, and his stomach was starting to really ache, but he kept at it. There was bound to be a break soon, right?

"We will defend the Alliance," Curzon shouted with feeling.

"Yes we will!" Came the response.

"Twelve," Tyoosi called to keep the count going.

"We will not fear any Wraith!" Curzon continued. "We are brave and strong."

"Yes we are!"

"Fourteen, keep it going, Numfar," Tyoosi warned close by. "Ford hold the back position higher, you're slipping."

John didn't have any focus to look at Ford, but he could hear him panting loudly.

"We will push back the Wraith."

"Yes, we will," John found himself joining in as he turned to face down at the overly clean blood-stained floor.

"Sixteen."

"We are strong and we will win," Curzon shouted.

"Yes, we will," John ground out with the others as he held his back straight, staring up at the high ceiling above them.

"Madesh move faster," Tyoosi ordered further away. "Eighteen."

"We are the best there is and we will all succeed, for the good of the Alliance, for the good of all life!"

"Yes, we will," everyone shouted the loudest this time.

"Good, Twenty!" Curzon concluded. "Rest."

Groans, gasps and a whoop of joy filled the gym. John dropped onto his back, the coolness of the floor like a welcome cool hug of relief against his hot and sweaty back.

"I'm starting to realise how good Colonel Sumner is on us," Ford panted beside John's elbow. "Not like the academy days."

John nodded, one hand on his belly feeling it rising and falling rapidly. "Remind me never to tell him that though, he'll only take notes from Curzon," John panted back.

"Yes, Sir," Ford replied with feeling.

People were sitting up around them, conversation rising.

"Water break for ten," Curzon stated loudly. Thank God!

Ford sat up into John's view, his short hair spiked up with sweat. People were walking around now, probably towards their water. John hadn't brought anything with him, but Numfar had assured them there was water available in the gym.

With a groan, John sat up, stretching out one arm as he got his feet under him and stood up. Fortunately, a few others were still lying on the floor. People were talking animatedly around the gym, it feeling suddenly more like a social meet rather than a workout break.

"Looks like they mix the geeks in with everyone else," Ford observed and John nodded. "Imagine McKay having to do this," Ford sniggered.

"Water," Numfar announced, having appearing with two cups of water for them.

"Thanks," John chorused with Ford as they both eagerly took the glistening water. Ford downed his quickly, but John took two big sips and held back on the rest.

"I'm going to see a few people," Numfar excused himself. "You'll be alright?"

"Sure," John replied as the guy headed off to his friends no doubt. Probably fed up babysitting the newbies.

"Need more?" Ford asked as he indicated a water fountain set in one wall from which the crew were filling their cups.

"This is fine for now," John replied and Ford headed off.

Looking casually around the room, as non-threateningly as possible, John took in the crew. A few were familiar faces, from either his meals in the canteen or maybe from his last visit to the ship.

Off to the right, John spotted Madesh, who was definitely a familiar face. Though, John noticed that the guy was stood aside from the others, not chatting away with anyone. He looked just as built up as the last time John had seen him, and it was good to see someone that John had some history with, so he headed towards the guy.

As he neared Madesh, a woman stepped up to the man's side, passing a cup of water to him. She looked vaguely familiar to John, but her profile turned away before he could place her. Madesh however had spotted John approaching and smiled brightly. At least someone appeared glad to have him onboard.

"Hey," John smiled back, feeling more relaxed, "I thought I heard your name being shouted out."

Madesh looked instantly embarrassed. "I do better in the sparring."

"I'm not sparring with you, you train with Oneakka," John joked seriously as he reached Madesh and the unknown dark-haired woman.

He smiled at her politely, only to do a double take instantly placing her, and she in turn clearly recognised him. The last time he had seen her she had been helping a drugged up Oneakka walk to the Gate on that cold forest planet. But that hadn't been the first time he had seen her.

"Major, have you met Seeal?" Madesh introduced her politely.

"Yes, on Dreamstation," John placed her. How had she ended up here of all places?

"Not anymore," she replied, her dark eyes boring into him. "Atlantis?"

John nodded at her, trying to get a read on her. If he remembered correctly, she had been the bodyguard of that rough ugly guy who had run Dreamstation – why was she on the Sythus? Training with the crew?

She was tall for a woman, standing almost as tall as him. It was a new experience to look almost directly into a woman's eyes without lowering his gaze. Her dark eyes and high cheekbones made her attractive, but there was something a little too sharp and intense in her attention that was off putting.

"What you doing here?" John asked her directly, but going with the casual vibe.

"Helping the Elite," she replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping out too," he responded.

"Major Sheppard is newly married to Honoured Elite Emmagan," Madesh filled her in.

Seeal's dark eyebrows rose. "Ah, _that_ Major Sheppard." Her scrutiny changed. "Quite a play for Atlantis to make."

John nodded, that discomfort under her hawk-like stare getting only worse at the mention of his marriage. Fortunately, Ford was approaching holding two cups, one of which he was downing while carefully balancing the other.

"This is Lieutenant Ford," John introduced him as he arrived, the kid's spine straightening and his chest puffing out again. "You remember Madesh?"

"Yeah, good to see you again," Ford extended his hand to Madesh, having fitting his full water cup into the empty one.

Madesh shook his hand.

"And this is Seeal, you probably remember her from Dreamstation," John added.

Ford offered his hand to her, which John realised he hadn't done. Seeal looked down at the offered hand for a confused beat before taking Ford's hand in hers.

"Nice to meet you," Ford said politely.

Seeal's eyes swept over Ford with that severe look again as their hands parted. "I'm surprised Atlantis would send valuable political figures onto an Elite ship heading into the middle of a battle," she asked, her gaze returning to John.

"We're not afraid of a few battles with the Wraith," John replied offhandedly.

Seeal nodded faintly at that. "So the rumours say. They also say you're from another galaxy."

"Yes, we are," John replied proudly with a smile to Ford. "We call it the Milky Way."

Seeal frowned slightly at the name.

"We have chocolate," John added.

Seeal frowned again, but there was a shift in her expression that told him she suspected he was joking.

"Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford assisted in hunting down and stopping Iketani," Madesh told Seeal.

Seeal glanced at Madesh with those dark laser beam eyes. "Which would be how you meet them then?" She asked and Madesh nodded. Clearly she knew about Madesh's history. John wondered if the two had a romance going on, though the faint pained look that crossed Madesh's face suggested this conversation wasn't his favourite subject matter.

"Yeah and the poor guy took a bullet," John stated. "Like a pro though."

Madesh smiled more brightly at the compliment.

"Pro?" Seeal asked. "As in professional?"

John nodded to her.

"Taken many bullets yourself?" She asked.

"A few," John replied honestly.

She nodded as if that confirmed something for her.

"You?" He asked her, still trying to get a take on her.

"I try and avoid getting shot," she replied as if it was that simple, though John guessed it was probably only in his line of work that getting shot at regularly was commonplace. Still, from the little he knew and had seen of Dreamstation, he would have expected there to have been plenty of bullets flying around there.

"You had all better be warmed up," Curzon's loud voice cut through the gym's chattering, and, as before, everyone instantly shut up and turned towards the one-eyed man.

Curzon strode towards the centre of the gym, Tyoosi a step behind him. At the centre, Curzon turned slowly, looking around at everyone. "Since we're all heading into a new vital battleground, and we have some uninitiated guests with us..." Curzon angled his head towards John and Ford, "...we're going to work on basic hand to hand fighting."

There were some mutterings, but John couldn't work out if they were complaints or people pleased to display their alien martial arts skills.

"Volunteers please," Curzon called.

Two people broke out of the group instantly, heading towards him and Tyoosi. One of them was a guy stood about six foot, who looked over at John with a slightly sneering look that said he was looking forward to showing off. It was the first overt display of arrogance that John had seen here. Clearly not everyone was happy with him and Ford being here...or maybe the look had been directed towards Madesh at his side? Or perhaps at Seeal? John glanced at Madesh next to him.

"The suspicion is not just for you," Madesh whispered, "this is also Seeal and my first session of training with the crew."

Yeah, because being newbies would be the only reason the crew might have trouble with Madesh and Seeal.

"We're going to work through the first five basic drills to start," Curzon announced. "Watch my volunteers as they go through each drill in turn. Pay sharp attention!" This time Curzon's single gaze met John's for certain across the gym before sliding off him to the other newbies.

The two volunteers, now referred to as "The Show Offs" in John's head, started going through the first drill. It was basic enough stuff to John, recognisable from his own training. One guy stepped in with a punch and the other blocked and hit back.

"Drill two," Curzon ordered and the Show Offs performed another basic fighting pattern. John watched closely, memorising them as best he could in comparison to what he already knew. Basic stuff really.

"Good," Curzon concluded after all five drills had been demonstrated. "Double time," he ordered and the volunteers repeated the drills faster, one drill flowing into the next, the display becoming more impressive.

"Free choice," Curzon ordered next and the two guys began mixing it up, switching between the drills and trying to catch each other off guard. One slightly clipped the other in the jaw and the crowd jeered good-naturedly. It seemed human training sessions were pretty much the same in Pegasus as they were back home.

"Enough," Curzon called. "Next we have the five Wraith drills. If you discover yourself in the most unfortunate position of facing a Wraith, what is the _most_ important rule?" He asked pointing to one of the volunteers.

"Don't let the fear win," the guy replied immediately and loudly.

"Exactly," Curzon agreed, glancing towards John and his fellow newbies. "The Wraith rule by fear. Yes, they are stronger, yes, they are more agile, but it is _fear_ that slows their prey. What is the second rule of fighting Wraith?" He asked the other volunteer. John paid more attention – this was getting more interesting.

"Disable the feeding hands," the guy replied instantly.

"Correct," Curzon stated as he began pacing around the centre of the gym. "You stop a Wraith from being able to feed on you and the fight is won. You disable the threat and move on. You are _not_ Elite," he almost shouted. "You will not face off against a Wraith out of choice without it being the _last_ thing you need do, and then make sure to use any weapon you can find!"

Curzon had everyone's attention as he paced the inside of the circle of the watching crew. The wide scar cutting across Curzon's face, the missing eye, and the badass attitude putting to shame almost all drill sergeants John had had in the past. Yeah, Curzon and Sumner would get on far too well.

"These drills, which my volunteers will now run through for your rapt attention, are _not _to be used unless all other avenues of escape are lost. The very last thing you should ever even conceive of doing is to fight a Wraith in hand to hand combat. We all know that for any civilian population the survivor rate of a human versus Wraith is death practically every time. Wraith against a Military warrior the statistic changes to half combat success, but that does not equal survival at the end of it. You all know the statistics. If any of you find yourself in a position of going up against a Wraith in hand to hand combat, then these drills are what will save your life."

Curzon turned to the Show Offs. "Drill one."

John's attention snapped to the drill. One guy stepped forward, striking forward with one palm, playing the role of the Wraith.

"Drill one allows for small bladed weapons or a piece of glass, anything small and sharp," Curzon narrated. "Step diagonally forward away from the attack vector, slice the edge of the weapon up and across the inside of the Wraith forearm or back of the wrist." John watched closely. He had seen the Elite use these techniques up close and personal against Wraith, and they weren't all that different from his own training, but the point about the feeding hands was a good point. Back home, the mainstay with dealing with the Wraith was pumping as many bullets into them as possible.

"Second drill," Curzon ordered and another drill was played out, both feeding hands coming at the other guy. Someone muttered to the far right, and John glanced round to see that all the crew were watching intently. He guessed that most of them had never been up close and personal with a Wraith before. John wished he could count himself in that group.

"Third drill is to be used when you have a non-bladed weapon, such as an empty stunner or something such as a piece of pipe or wood. Use the weapon to deflect and damage the hands and arms as much as you can. Remember with Wraith that the hands are _always_ the primary target. _Always_ be aware of them. You take your mind off them and you're going to end up as food."

John watched the much longer drill that used a small stick to hit the Wraith's wrists, arms and a final strike towards the Wraith's face.

"Once the hands and arms are damaged, sweeping wide strikes to the neck and head are to follow," Curzon instructed as he paced around behind the demonstration. "Wraith can heal from most damage such as this to the chest and body, but not to their brain or throat. You bled them out or damage enough brain and spinal cord and they will drop like one of you."

John watched the next drill with more interest. It used a turning sweeping dance around the back of the Wraith that he had seen Teyla use in their bantos sparring. "Looks Athosian," John commented to Ford.

"Yes, it does, Major Sheppard," Curzon stated from the middle of the room, the guy's hearing far better than John would have guessed. "I trust you'll be good at this one in particular."

John felt eyes on him and thought he heard a few quiet sniggers.

"I'll do my best," John replied.

"The last drill," Curzon continued to the crowd, "is the last saving grace. This style of drill is for use when you have no weapons but your own weak hands. Speed is vital, moving around behind the Wraith's attack, using their momentum towards you to give you time around behind their attack. Use that time wisely. Here you use the first drills, aiming for throat, eyes, and at best snapping the neck. We shall go through such precise skills next time. For now, in pairs practice the two sets of drills, alternating through them all. If you don't know the drills then train with someone who does. Go!"

John turned to Madesh with a hopeful look. "Wanna play?"

Madesh smiled and nodded.

"Great, because I didn't catch any of that," John joked, gesturing back towards the centre of the gym. It was mostly true.

"You will not struggle, Major Sheppard. I know you have a marking of your own."

Other than Curzon's, John had spied only one other tattoo on the non-Elite crew so far. The woman in question was strong looking, probably similar age to Curzon, and she was moving through the drills with a speed and grace that said she had been doing them for a long time.

John faced off with Madesh, while next to them Ford and Seeal had teamed up, but, as neither of them knew the drills either, they were watching Madesh.

"First drill is to simply step in and punch," Madesh indicated to John. John stepped forward and mimicked a slow punch towards Madesh's face. "I then step in and round, blocking at an angle and then striking to your face."

Madesh's fist stopped a good couple of inches from John's face.

Ford mimicked the moves beside Madesh, Seeal throwing the punch.

"And switch," Madesh suggested, so John blocked his slow punch and struck at his face instead. Seeal did the same next to John.

Madesh went through the drills each in turn, slowly and patiently, but John was already in the flow. He and Madesh started speeding up, Madesh calling the moves.

"Surely you can move faster than that Major," Curzon commented as he moved past them at one point.

Despite knowing it was an obvious push to the ego, John still sped up and Madesh responded in turn.

"Seeal, try not to look so bored," Tyoosi added as he passed by next.

John glanced towards the woman as he threw a Wraith open palm attack at Madesh. Ford was going good, as he obviously would, clearly enjoying it. But, John knew what was going to happen next. Probably taking some personal exception to the comment from Tyoosi that Ford wasn't challenging enough for Seeal's interest, Ford threw out two non-drill punches to see if that would get Seeal's attention.

With a swift, somewhat confusing move that John didn't quite catch, Seeal stepped around Ford and one palm slapped against the kid's cheek. Ford shook his rattled surprised head and grinned at the woman, which made her frown. Ford struck out again, more thoughtfully this time, and Seeal countered.

Madesh's punch appeared in John's view, making him realise he had lost his focus. He quickly sidestepped and blocked. Falling back into his own training, he turned and struck at Madesh. Madesh blocked and smiled as he returned with another punch that almost made contact with John's ribs. However, John was used to bantos rods thrown – usually gently but still firmly - against his sides over the last few months. He twisted, blocked the inside of Madesh's arm and then struck at Madesh's face with the back of his fist.

He almost landed the hit too, clipping the edge of Madesh's cheek as he turned away, and his elbow began heading towards John's middle. The guy was quick. Clearly those training sessions with Oneakka had paid off big time. John stepped back and round, dodging the elbow and swinging round with his own elbow, but this time up at the side of Madesh's head. He made the tap nice and soft, but Madesh still shook his head slightly as he stepped back, ending the little sparring exchange.

The guy was smiling though and John smiled back, realising this was the first time he'd really felt relaxed in days.

He and Madesh circled one another, both smiling, both looking for who was going to step in and make the first hit. Madesh moved first, a series of attacks blazing towards John. John managed to counter two, but got a slap to a cheek and a tap to one shoulder in quick succession. He followed through though, kneeing Madesh gently in the side as he almost completed an arm lock on the arm that had clocked him on the shoulder.

Madesh struggled in the lock, trying to pull away, but John followed.

Curzon appeared in John's peripheral vision, no doubt watching the display, but there was no comment. That brief tiny moment of loss of concentration though meant John missed Madesh's incoming hand, aimed at his face. Madesh's warm, slightly sweaty hand latched onto John's face, the man's thumb pressing lightly over his eye. In a real fight, John knew what would happen – he would have to pull back while keeping his eye tightly closed, however, in such a situation he knew he would also have time to break Madesh's arm in his lock.

But they were playing nice, so John twitched Madesh's arm to make the point about the break and pulled away.

Madesh let go of his face immediately and the hand patted down on John's shoulder. The guy was smiling widely. "Very impressive, Major Sheppard," Madesh grinned. "That would have been some significant damage to my arm."

"Yeah, and my eye," John joked back.

"Enough!" Curzon shouted from not far behind John. Wincing at the sudden noise, John turned round to face the centre of the gym once again, watching as the rest of the crew broke up their own sparring. It looked like it had been a free-for-all all around. Some were getting up off the floor and some panting heavily.

John looked round to make a comment to Madesh, but the guy was stood overtly straight now and glancing off to the left. John looked in that direction to see that Oneakka and Si had appeared. The two Elite were leant casually against the side wall of the gym, looking like they might have been there for awhile already.

He couldn't help himself, but glance around the rest of the gym, looking for perhaps another Elite who might have come to watch.

But she wasn't here.

John wished he didn't feel disappointed.

Annoyed with himself, he looked quickly round at Ford, the kid stepping up to his side. One of Ford's cheeks was red, but the kid was grinning widely, his eyes wide with adrenaline.

Glad someone was still feeling good about things, John returned his attention to Curzon.

"Good practise, everyone," Curzon called. "For the rest of this morning's session we're going to be playing a game." There was a chorus of mixed responses to that, some negative, some joyful. "A Satedan game today. Eva?"

The woman with the tattoo carried forward a cloth bag which she put down in the middle of the room.

"Now that we've got new numbers, we'll have three teams," Curzon said as he dug around in the bag and produced three pieces of cloth. "Red team, Green team, and Orange team.

"Wraith Eaters always win," someone shouted from the back.

"And your team can stay together then, it'll give the others a challenge," Curzon smiled as he threw a red cloth towards the voice.

"The Cues won last time," someone disagreed in the crowd.

"For the first time in years," a response came back, which Curzon ignored. Apparently the back and forth was allowed.

Curzon looked towards John and Madesh. "Our two Atlantis guests with Madesh and Seeal will make up the third team, but I need at least five more to join them to make up numbers."

"I'll join," Numfar's voice called, appearing out of the crowd with a smile. "Come on," he gestured to some others and three more joined him across the faint open gap towards John and his fellow newbies. Numfar quickly introduced names, which John instantly forgot, but he exchanged smiles with the new two guys and one woman now part of his team.

"I'll join," came another voice and a guy squeezed between two large people to hurry to Seeal's side. He was the guy who had almost been last in the race, and though lean and friendly looking, he was clearly of Rodney's type. The man looked exhausted and smiled slightly nervously.

"This is Ru," Seeal introduced the new guy to them. "He's the ship's new Lead Engineer."

"Nice to meet you," John said as he held out his hand.

"Shake it, it's their thing," Seeal told Ru. Ru's formally cautious smile became wide and friendly as he shook John's hand, though was unsure when to let go, so John had to tug his hand free.

"One more," Curzon called.

"Me," a female voice responded and a pretty woman appeared from the group, moving towards Numfar with obvious familiarity, but as she stepped up to join them, her eyes stopped on Ford. "Hello," she said with obvious flirtation.

"Hi," Ford smiled back, his eyes wide.

Oh no.

"I'm Nevaeh," she told Ford as she extended her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Great to meet you," Ford replied as he wiped his sweaty hand on his pants' leg and shook her hand eagerly. "I'm Aiden, Lieutenant Aiden. Lieutenant Aiden Ford," he bumbled, but he was still inanely smiling at her.

"Great, we can write him off," Seeal muttered towards John and Madesh.

"He'll be okay," John defended immediately.

"Please," Seeal responded, her dark hawk-eyes direct. "I don't know how it is in your galaxy, but in this one, any human male looking to impress someone always ends up falling on his backside."

John opened his mouth to protest, but his eyes were on Ford who was shaking hands with Numfar's friends, but the kid's attention kept switching back to Naveah. John had the distinct impression that Ford had forgotten he was even here.

Various teenage skateboarding wipe-outs replayed through his memory, coupled with a myriad of memories of sparring accidents, falling over things, and other embarrassing moments from his past that had happened while he had been trying to impress a girl.

"Yeah, you might have a point," John muttered to Seeal, aware that Madesh was chuckling. Seeal glanced at Madesh surprised as if she hadn't heard him laugh before.

"Okay," Curzon called some order. "Red team are the Wraith Eaters, most of The Cues are the green team, and what shall we call the new group?" He asked towards John and his newly formed team.

"The misfits?" Someone from the back shouted and there was some laughter.

"I know that was you, Fleta," Nevaeh accused the group and there was more laughter.

"How about The Strays?" someone else called. "That's what some of the Honoured Elite have been calling them." There were a few nervous glances across to Oneakka and Si, but they were distracted talking with Tyoosi.

"The Cues will give The Strays the cue to leave," someone joked at the front.

"I'm usually a Cue myself," Nevaeh objected from near John.

"You don't want to be a Cue, Nevaeh," John found himself adding, suddenly wanting to be in on the banter. He knew this was a way of judging people. "On Earth cues are really thin sticks that we use to hit balls with."

There was some laughter at that, mostly from the Wraith Eaters group who were all pulling red cloths out of the bag.

"I'm sure we'll be good at hitting some small balls," one of the Cues stated to John, and, with a frown, John realised the man in question was the same arrogant Show Off from before.

"Only if you're fast enough," John responded, not rising to the obvious intention of questioning his manhood. There were some more laughs. The guy smiled back, but it was with a promise to try to do just that. John was going to have to look out for this one.

"We're happy to be called The Strays," Seeal was saying back to someone else. "Strays come from the street and know how to take care of themselves."

"Yeah, we're scrappy," John agreed.

Seeal glanced at him with another one of those almost smiles.

"We can take on the Wraith Eaters and the Cues all at once," Ford pushed things a little too far, probably because he was stood next to Nevaeh.

"You'll need a larger team," someone replied to him. "Someone go find the goat." More laughter followed.

"Have you all finished bonding?" Curzon interrupted loudly. "Get your cloths and shut up."

Everyone moved towards the ignored bag and green and orange pieces of cloth were quickly handed around.

John got his orange cloth and looked around, not sure what to actually do with it.

"The rules are simple, since they're Satedan," Curzon added glancing across to one corner.

"Objection," someone replied from that corner and there were more sniggers.

"Toj is one quarter Satedan," Madesh whispered by John's shoulder.

"Steal all of the other team's cloths," Curzon summarised. "There will be no weapons, just hand to hand combat. If your cloth is taken then you sit to the side and are not allowed back into play. The team with the final cloth in play wins."

"Are we playing by the injuries rules?" Toj asked.

"No," Curzon replied sternly and there were a few mutterings. "Because none of you take it seriously otherwise - all hopping around." Nevaeh joined in with the ensuing laughter, and John glanced round to see Ford smiling inanely beside her like he understood the joke.

"For the new Strays, and those of you who need to be reminded," Curzon continued. "Any engagement is allowed with the exception of eye-gouging, no more than two consecutive strikes to the face..." Strikes to the face in Capture the Flag? "And I repeat: no weapons."

Which was a good point, because one long wall of the gym was lined with racks of sticks, swords, knives, and guns.

"The cloth tucks in the back of your waistband," Curzon instructed, "and be prepared for any type of attack."

John glanced over towards Si and Oneakka. He would bet good money that they weren't going to just quietly watch the game.

"Each team to a corner, you have a few minutes to discuss tactics and then once the game starts it doesn't end until last cloth remaining."

"This way," Nevaeh gestured towards the closest corner of the gym, which took them past all the weaponry.

"Think we'll get a go at any of that lot?" Ford asked John as they followed Nevaeh, Numfar and their group.

"Just try and keep your mind on the game," John instructed him.

"I will," Ford insisted, clearly not understanding the subtle point, because he was already glancing ahead to Nevaeh.

"Because we've got to show this lot what Atlantis is capable of," John reminded him as they reached their team who were forming a circle. "Because I've seen this movie," John continued. "This is where us underdogs have got to show them what we're made of."

Madesh was nodding as were a couple of others.

Seeal frowned though. "What is a 'movie'?" She asked.

John glanced at her within the tight circle. "Like a play, theatre."

"You mean a childish waste of time?" She asked.

"Okay, you can be in charge of 'the life of the party'," John concluded, "while the rest of us need to work out a plan."

"We know some good weaknesses," Numfar replied.

"What is an underdog?" Ru asked distractedly.

"I suggest that we work in teams of two, working out from this corner and circling round both ways, keeping backs to the walls," Nevaeh suggested more helpfully.

"Okay," John agreed.

"Anyone we need to particularly watch out for?" Ford asked her.

"Toj is one of the best at this," Numfar put in as they all looked round towards the other two corners. Faces were looking back, all calculating and looking too gleeful for John's liking. The Elite were still leant against the wall talking with Tyoosi.

"Had loads of practise no doubt," John muttered.

"The trick is to play dirty surely," Seeal considered. "Grab cloths while they're fighting other people."

"Yes, but watch out for surprise attacks," Nevaeh replied. "Sometimes Curzon and Tyoosi join in to keep you on your toes, so watch out for them too."

Great.

That wasn't taking into account the watching Elite either.

"I've got bad feeli-" John started, but was interrupted by Curzon shouting.

"Begin!"

And in a sudden explosive rush, the teams surged forward out of their corners towards one another.

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TBC


	29. The Fighting Game

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**Chapter 29 – The Fighting Game**

Seeal watched with a sense of bizarre detachment as the three teams rushed forward in clashing haste across the training hall.

The only one of her team still stood in the corner, she watched as the teams engaged with shoulder barges, grappling tackles, and loose flying fists.

She frowned at the display.

Not once in her life had she ever gone into a fight with such playful abandon as the crew displayed now. Even Madesh, stoic and ponderously polite as he could so often be, was exchanging strikes with one of The Cues team with clear enjoyment. The man was looking to prove his place in the crew, as were perhaps the two from Atlantis.

She understood the psychology of what was happening, but watching people engage in a fight out of play...it was something she had not experienced before.

She had been sent into plenty of fights, but those had been either forced upon her by dangerous situations, or had been her choice in the pits where she had fought to provide for her and Ulfur's survival.

The pit fights had been brutal, and the best way to win had been to be the fastest, the most vicious, and willing to do whatever it took to win. Never had she gone into a fight for enjoyment, as was clearly the design today. Even the training hall felt strange as a place to fight in, for the pit fights had always been in murky warehouses or underground basement spaces. The lighting had usually been flickering torches and weakly powered stolen battery units, and the air had been thick with smoked substances and odour of stale sweat and splattered blood. Thinking of those days now seemed to bring back the memories with a touch of bad association and trauma. She could almost relive the dank scent of mould and damp spaces, the metallic taste of a split lip and broken skin, and the rough muddy dirt smeared floors. She still sometimes dreamt of the constant drowning sound of jeering, cheering, and violent taunts.

Fighting had been her way of discharging her rage at her life, but also to get her hands on the currency that had been in constant motion around the pits. Her ability to fight had already been there from growing up as a child on the streets, and by the time she had reached her teenage years, she had been in more fights than most in the pits had done. Her first pit fight had been a necessity to get her and Ulfur out of a bad situation, but also to put literal food in their bellies after too many days of nothing. That fight had been far too long, her skills sloppy, but it had set fire to a determination that had driven her back to those fights for years afterwards. She had found a way to burn off her own anger, and to actually make currency. She and Ulfur had never gone hungry again, but neither had the currency lasted. Ulfur had always spent it away on gambling, drink, females, and drugs, and so Seeal had continued to fight.

Those days had seemed to end once Creass had offered her a place on Dreamstation, but in charge of the station's security had meant that fighting had never left her life. They had been fewer in number on Dream, but often far more deadly in their possible outcome than in the pits. On Dreamstation she had learnt how to deal with weapons, which had not been a part of the pits. As the years had passed on Dream and her reputation had been well set and tested, she had needed to fight less, but the potential of them had always been in the air.

Now though, free of Dream, of her family, of her previous life, she found herself stood before a new form of fighting. She knew people sparred, knew it was even a form of flirtation to some, but to her fighting had been a survival skill. Why would someone play with that?

Yet, watching the three teams clash now, hearing the grunts, shouts, and laughs combined with playful banter she felt the strangest compulsion to join in. It was expected of her of course, to be part of the team of The Strays, and she understood that it would facilitate her inclusion within the crew by taking part. Yet, it still seemed so alien to watch fighting without real violence, to hear laughter and see smiles in contrast to the punches passed back and forth. It was a new and strange creature for her, and she was unsure exactly how she should include herself in the mess of the tumbling and grappling game.

So, as was her way, she held back for now, watching the drama unfold.

Numfar was closest to her and he was holding off two of his apparent friends, their exchanges more of laughter as they circled each other, making darting grabs towards the team cloths.

Nevaeh to the right was under attack from three of the Wraith Eaters, but Lieutenant Aiden Ford was at her side. He threw himself forward, a fist and then an elbow thrown, but Nevaeh was still out matched. In a clever, but potentially disastrous move, she dropped down onto her back, covering her orange cloth from a grab, but also exposing herself to all manner of attacks. Seeal tensed, the reaction to rush forward to help immediate, but she held back as Nevaeh's legs swung out and took out two legs near her. The tumble of limbs was blocked by the younger man from Atlantis rushing in.

Beside them, two of the Cues were still trying to take down Madesh. Once again, Seeal felt her body tense, ready to move in to assist, but suddenly Major Sheppard appeared behind two of Madesh's attackers and their two cloths were waved victoriously. She twitched ready to shout a warning though, for three more were heading in towards Major Sheppard's back. Madesh beat her to it though, shouting a warning as he moved to the Major's side. The two men engaged them, the man from Atlantis expertly blocking strikes at Madesh's side.

Someone cried out in sharp complaint from the furthest corner and Seeal looked over to see as many as ten Sythus crew pile in on each other, hands grabbing at cloths, limbs tangling and shouts filled with laughter as well as complaint.

They really were enjoying themselves, even though there were clearly bruises forming and she spied Ru crawling out from under a small crush of Cues.

Even the Lead Engineer, obviously out of his depth in fighting, had rushed in with his team. He had a slight bleeding scrape to his cheek, but he was obviously not in distress.

This was sport. This was using one's body in competition for enjoyment and the assertion of one's place in a hierarchical structure. Those that lasted the longest in the game would be looked on more favourably by the rest of the crew. Which was why the trainers had selected this game today – to help the crew bond with the ship's new additions.

The numbers currently in the game were dropping slightly, another handful of cloth-less crew moving to the side of the hall. Those out of the game were not resentful though, they were sat in a long line, watching the action with rapt attention. Seeal noticed that one of those sat out was a member of her team, The Strays.

She also noticed that the spread of the fighting was altering as the weaker or unfortunate ones were removed. In the centre of the most dynamic fighting, she watched the apparent quarter-Satedan known at Toj dominate his space. He was taking on people two at a time, moving fast and using his obvious superior strength to his easy advantage.

With a total of six removed from his opposing teams, Toj was now redirecting his attention...towards Madesh and Major Sheppard, clearly looking to be the one to take the cloths away from the new men. As Toj headed towards them he was also taking out quite a few other competitors as they stepped into his path, hoping to be the one to take him out of the game.

Seeal watched Toj move, watched how he used an initial grab of his attacker, then swung them round and with a twist and pull tugged their cloth easily free. He repeated the action several times, varying it slightly as others tried to grab for his own cloth, but he was smiling as he easily spun and grabbed again.

Someone was shouting something that registered through the sound of bodies hitting the floor, shouts, and laughter. Someone was shouting her name. She looked round to the watching sidelines to see several were taunting her for not having joined in. She looked away, back to Toj.

Ru was in his way, being set upon by several Wraith Eaters. To stop them, the engineer had dropped onto his back, copying Nevaeh's earlier move to protect his cloth. He was sending up some good kicks, battling away loose grabs by half hearted Wraith Eaters as they tried to burrow underneath his back for the his cloth. Toj reached them and reached down into the mass, lifting Ru up as if he was made of nothing but air. The engineer's cloth was quickly removed.

Seeal had her moment.

Sinking into that deep instinctive fighter inside of her, she pushed forward, powering through the space between Nevaeh, Ford, and Madesh's backs in no time. Major Sheppard stepped in her way without realising, having gotten a Cue in a neck lock, the two wrestling with each other for their cloths. She leapt easily over the bent over men, her hands touching on the floor first, and she thrust up with her arms, powering her tumble onwards. Her feet touched the ground a second later, her spine warm from the wondrous stretch, but her attention was fixed back on Toj.

One of the other Wraith Eaters saw her coming, but was too late. She dropped to the floor, her momentum sliding her along the floor under his reach and between his legs. She snagged his cloth out from the back of his waistband as she passed under him, unfortunately taking some of his underwear with it judging by the high pitched complaint. But, she was more interested in the fact that she had reached Toj.

The part Satedan had seen her action and now reached down towards her. She reached up and caught hold of the approaching grab, wrapped her knee up around the thick arm and used it to lever herself up off the floor. Wrapping her body quickly up and around his side, using his own body as her base, she grabbed round and snatched his cloth out from out the back of his waistband and shoved herself away from him.

There was a loud response of groans, shouts of surprise and some cheering, but she was not easily distracted by such sounds – there had been enough in the pits. Besides, another Wraith Eater was stepping towards her, likely having taken offence to her taking out their strongest member. The man struck out at her with a simple direct punch – it was straight out of their basic training drills. She angled her body to one side, rapped her knuckles against the fleshy inside of the man's forearm and followed through with a light backhand strike to his face as she moved right into his personal space. She followed through with a light knee to his side. He crumpled backwards towards the floor and she kept with him, pushing her weight onto him, forcing him to turn in his fall to land on his side – thereby exposing his cloth. She tugged it free as she met the floor, rolled away from him, and dropped his cloth aside. She rose up onto her knee, ready for the next attack that she sensed incoming.

Except it was one of her team, Major Sheppard. He held out his hands to make sure she realised it was him, and then he quickly pointed past her. She had seen his weight moving forward though, and ducked quickly, understanding his intention. His arm passed over her with a fast strike to their incoming opponent as she slid past his body. She assessed the landscape of the fight before her only to see both Nevaeh and Lieutenant Ford were moving away off towards the sidelines. Her team were reducing, in fact the hall was clearing of fighters, the numbers of spectators abruptly increasing.

A Wraith Eater was advancing on her and Sheppard's back. She faced off with him, standing in a relaxed ready stance that showed her readiness for his attack.

The Eater paused, smirked, and darted one way and then the other in a rather pathetic attempt to confuse her. He threw one punch, then another, and then a kick. None of them came close to her. As she moved around the punches, she assessed the rest of the hall. There were several more Wraith Eaters taking on Madesh. He needed help, and Sheppard and Numfar were stuck fighting some last remaining Cues. Other than them, there were a number of Wraith Eaters surrounding the last of the Cues. The Strays still had a chance.

Her current attacker rushed at her, trying to tackle her. Seeing it in that beautiful slow motion of the basic animalistic brain, she quickly lifted one knee, her boot meeting his leg and she pushed up, throwing herself up and around him, twisting and pushing him forward with his own momentum so that he was now crashing down towards the floor. Of course he was taking her down with him, but with a quick shift, it was almost entirely him that met the floor. There was some definite loud hoots and applause, but could have been directed somewhere else in the fight. Half on top of the fallen Wraith Eater, she quickly removed his cloth and stood up. Throwing his cloth aside, she raced on towards those attacking Madesh.

Two were taking on Madesh and he was holding them at bay, but he was struggling. They had the element of increased numbers, forcing him to defend against two at once. They didn't see her approach, however a shout from the audience warned one. She turned towards Seeal approach and lashed out an attack at Seeal's face. Reacting out of pure instinct and years of training, Seeal dodged her head aside, drabbed up at the offending arm with both her hands and kicked up at the owner of the arm. She caught the woman in the ribs, but the woman twisted and pulled Seeal round with her. On one leg with her kick, Seeal was seemingly in a disadvantaged position, but she jumped and kicked both feet at the woman instead. The impact wouldn't do any damage, but it did result in both of them off their feet.

Seeal hit the floor, but was already twisting back upright, intent to follow through and get the woman's cloth. However, the shadow of Sheppard appeared again, and he grabbed at the fallen woman's cloth.

"You okay?" Sheppard shouted as he flung the won cloth aside.

"Fine," Seeal answered, surprised for a second that he was asking her and not the fallen woman now out of the game.

She turned, aware Madesh was still fighting one Wraith Eater. Numfar stepped up to her side, panting and looking a little bloodied, but he was still smiling.

It appeared that the remaining Wraith Eaters had removed the last of The Cues and were now regrouped and heading towards her, Numfar, Sheppard, and Madesh.

She opened her mouth to suggest to her remaining team that they wait until their opponents were within a certain distance, but the playfulness of the game had gotten to Numfar apparently, for he rushed forward to start the engagement. The crowd exploded in excited cheers.

Seeal followed him quickly, working as backup as he engaged and traded loose punches with the first Wraith Eater. An Eater ahead of her now, she prepared herself for a new attack, only suddenly a red soft ball flew through her view and hit Numfar on the side of his head. Another red ball hit her own intended target, the Eater faltering aside as he recovered from the unexpected, yet soft, assault.

Looking round in the direction of the balls origin, her view filled with red.

She dropped to the floor just in time, the ball sailing over her, and just behind it was another Wraith Eater. She kicked up at him, only the kick worked too well as she accidently caught him partly in the groin, and suddenly the man was falling down over her.

Twisting onto her side, she held up one forearm to catch him and stop him from crushing her. She heard him groan and swear slightly as he crumpled down over her.

"Sorry about that," she panted out to him as she swung him over to the floor, whilst reaching round to remove his cloth at the same time. As she threw the cloth aside, she spied Sheppard close by and saw a red ball clip him in the shoulder.

Getting up off the floor, she looked around hurriedly to discover who was responsible for the obvious distraction technique of throwing the soft weapons into the game.

Her eyes fell on Oneakka, stood near the far wall with a large box of red balls at his side and one already in his hand. She watched his following throw, which sailed across the hall and into Numfar. The soft object bounced off the side of Numfar's head and bounced past Seeal.

She moved forward and grabbed it up as she reached Numfar. He was locked in a seemingly even wrestling match with a Wraith Eater. Using them both as cover, Seeal slipped behind them, peering out towards Oneakka and then lobbed her stolen ball off towards the Elite warrior.

He dodged it easily and the crowd loudly gasped and then laughed. She wondered if anyone had ever thrown back at the Elite before. She darted back behind the fighters again.

Wait, where was the other Elite? Si?

She looked round just in time to see the massive muscular Elite warrior capture Sheppard in a hug attack from behind. Si had pushed a red cloth into the back of his belt. The Strays, somehow, were now the superior team and so apparently the Elite had joined in. There were only three Eaters left versus four of her team, only the Elite warrior had just evened up the odds.

She switched her attention to the Eater against Numfar, darting around behind him, whilst simultaneously keeping an eye on Oneakka, who was throwing a ball towards Madesh. She easily pulled the cloth free from Numfar's opponent and tapped the man on the back to let him know. Numfar gasped in relief though smiled at her, but they had two Wraith Eaters circling them.

As they circled, Seeal worked to keep an eye on the other Eater battling Madesh, that Sheppard was still occupying Si, and also ensuring that she was not in a direct line of fire from Oneakka.

This time Numfar was not so eager to rush into re-engagement with the enemy – he was looking tired for sure. A red ball sailed past one of the Eater's ears and knocked another to the floor. She and Numfar rushed forward together without a word. They bore the man to the floor with their sudden explosive attack, a red ball flying over their head as they did.

Their opponent to the floor, Seeal twisted up to check the other Eater, but that woman was now engaging with Madesh.

"Get off me," the man under her and Numfar exclaimed in a sharp high tone.

"Sorry, Fleta," Numfar laughed as he slapped his friend's chest whilst lifting up the man's cloth with his other hand.

Throwing the cloth aside, Numfar stood up with a smile of victory, only for yet another red ball to slam into the side of his face. The crowd laughed almost hysterically.

"Remember to keep your head down in battle," Curzon shouted.

The audience were stamping their feet now, the sound a chorusing background noise that almost took her back to the pits again. Stood together, she and Numfar took in the remaining situation.

Madesh had removed the other Eater, the woman limping away to the sidelines, and Madesh was now with Sheppard, the two cautiously circling Si. They were going to need help that was for sure. However, there was one other remaining Eater, who was heading towards her and Numfar.

As another ball bounced close by Seeal, she snatched it up and threw it hard towards the approaching Eater. She also let the momentum of her throw carry her forward and she cart wheeled towards the attack, hoping to confuse both the Eater and Oneakka with her travel path. Sailing over, she righted herself inches from the Eater who staggered slightly at the impact of the ball, and she kicked out at his closest leg, whilst simultaneously grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down and over. She threw him over her in a tumble, straight into the path of Numfar, who grabbed down for the man's cloth.

The crowd applauded and groaned in equal measures as Numfar held aloft the cloth.

They were down to one Eater – Si. She got up from the floor, feeling the first real pulls of tiredness, but there was plenty of adrenaline in her system to keep her going.

A ball abruptly hit her side and she swept round in Oneakka's direction. He was still stood off by the far wall and was smugly throwing another red ball up and down in one hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

Numfar raced past her, heading into the sparring match with Si and drawing her back into the final battle.

With another glare at Oneakka, she followed, grabbing up another ball as she did. Arriving into the sparring match, in which Si was somehow holding his own against three opponents, she threw her ball at Si' head.

Against all logic in the situation, he caught it before it touched him. The crowd roared with approval and excitement.

Seeal slid to a stop next to Sheppard, who had a small bruise on one cheekbone, but was smiling with the wide eyed look of adrenaline.

"I think we need to take him on en mass," he suggested.

"You think four of us can take him down?" Madesh asked doubtfully around his own panting breathing.

Some of the audience were stamping their feet in unison again, which was clearly meant to encourage them to get on with the attack.

"I think we should Ghostbuster Si," Sheppard stated confusingly around his panting breaths.

"_Honoured_ _Elite_ Si," Madesh corrected.

"Even now you have to do that?" Seeal asked Madesh.

"Respect is important," Madesh responded, but his attention shifted to Sheppard. "What do you mean Ghostbuster him?"

"On three, we all get him," Sheppard explained.

"That's your plan?" Seeal asked him incredulously.

"Hey, it worked for them, well, no, it didn't work for the Ghostbusters, but I think it's all we really have right now."

"Wait over," Si announced loudly and rushed at them, taking away the decision. The audience shouted louder.

Seeal held back from the rush at the Elite warrior, looking for an opportunity to reach Si' cloth. A red ball hit Sheppard and Numfar's back as she darted past them.

Sheppard fell back from an attack from Si, his backside cushioning the fall, whilst Numfar was crumpled in a heap. Si meanwhile had Madesh in a necklock with one large dark muscular arm and was reaching for Madesh's cloth. Seeal darted forward, but she was too late – Madesh's cloth fell to the floor and Si turned towards her.

She dropped down and aside, just missing the two handed grab at her, and she heard Si chuckle as she was forced to roll aside from his stamping foot. Above her, Sheppard and Numfar were once again attacking, but their combined attempt to tackle Si was completely unsuccessful and they were turned and shoved away, towards her. She dropped and rolled again, moving out of the path of the falling Atlantis man heading towards her.

Sheppard grunted and complained as he hit the floor.

"How can one guy be that strong?" Sheppard panted as she got up next to him.

"Practise and genetics," Seeal concluded as Numfar struggled up next to her. "We need to draw him away from the wall, expose his back."

"Yeah, how?" Sheppard asked as they stood upright again.

Si was already doing it for them though, for he was rushing towards their tired threesome. Seeal pulled back, putting more space between her and the ongoing mass of Elite warrior, aware that Sheppard was stepping in, working to get around behind Si. Si caught the Atlantis man though, getting him in a bodylock and turned towards Numfar.

Sheppard muttered and struggled in Si' hold, punching the warrior's side, but Si appeared not to feel it, or the thumbs blindly seeking out his eyes. Si laughed loudly, only for a red ball to abruptly arrive and impact the side of the Elite's head.

The hall exploded into shocked laughter as Si frowned off towards Oneakka, who simply shrugged from across the hall without apology.

Seeal and Numfar rushed at Si. Hopefully with the man's hands full of dealing with Sheppard they could get round behind his back.

Only, in a move that was far too fast to be believable, the Elite let go of Sheppard, the Atlantis man's cloth suddenly in his hand and then flying towards Numfar's face. Numfar's view suddenly blocked by the cloth, he yelped out loud and tried to throw himself aside, which resulted in him falling onto Sheppard who had just been released by Si. The two men tumbled to the floor between Seeal and Si.

Into this mess, Seeal threw herself. With some speed already in play, she set one hand on the mess of Numfar and Sheppard, and swung herself up at Si. She hoped to fly past him to get down and around behind him just quickly enough to get to his cloth, but the warrior was once again too fast.

One large dark hand filled her view, catching her leg and another hand caught her arm, capturing her and redirecting her path. In his hands, she quickly countered, reaching for him in turn, getting a hold of the bandolier around his front and pulled herself towards him. Intending to get over his shoulder from where she could reach down his back for his cloth, she clawed herself towards him. Si, realising her intent pushed her away from him, turning on the spot, and suddenly a roar filled the hall.

In that split second as Si had turned, Numfar had had his opportunity and had reached up and snagged Si' cloth.

"Numfar and The Strays win!" Curzon announced and applause filled the air.

Si relaxed instantly and Seeal found herself partly wrapped around the big Elite's upper body as he turned back towards Numfar.

Numfar lay on the floor in Si' shadow, his arms lifted in victory. Si chuckled, the rumble moving through Seeal while she remained draped over him. She was going to have to get down or end up a permanent part of the man's clothing.

Si reached down a spare hand toward Numfar to assist him up when a red ball once again sailed into the side of Si' head.

More laughter filled the air as Si turned to Oneakka. "Enough now!"

Oneakka shrugged again, but was not reaching for another ball.

Seeal took the moment to slide down off Si as the Elite helped Numfar up off the floor, but still one large dark arm supported her as she moved. The Elite's attention shifted to her as she pulled back from him, the hall full of applause.

"Good work," Si intoned as he stepped away from her.

She smiled back, strangely pleased with the compliment, but the moment was gone as the crew were suddenly around them. The rest of The Strays team were abruptly on Numfar, creating a mass of celebrating humanity. Nevaeh reached out and suddenly Seeal was pulled into the mass hug. It was hot, tightly pressed and full of the smell of fresh sweat, but she rather enjoyed the moment of unity.

The group parted from their tight hug and she stepped back.

"We're scrappy," Sheppard shouted next to her and held up one palm towards her. She frowned up at it.

"Hit it," Sheppard instructed her.

She made a fist.

"With an open palm," he clarified quickly before she could throw the punch.

She slapped her flat palm against his, which was apparently the correct thing to do, because he grinned and then turned his palm to Lieutenant Ford, who slapped it hard with his own palm. Madesh was the next to hit palms with Lieutenant Ford and then Major Sheppard.

Strangely, hands were patting her shoulders and back as the crew gathered around them. She might have found that uncomfortable normally, but feeling abruptly exhausted and having been hugged by her team, she didn't mind so much. This could only be good for her and the fellow Strays.

"Well done, people," Curzon announced. "Good game. That's enough for today."

"Everyone to your duty stations by your assigned time," Tyoosi stated, which quickly lowered the excitement in the hall. "Ship drills will commence prior to the mid meal, do not forget that tonight we have full ship-wide boarding drills."

Trust Tyoosi to lower the fun in a room. She shouldn't complain though because she hadn't been subjected to any of his lectures in days.

"Well done, everyone," Tyoosi concluded, and Seeal noticed that the man's gaze finished on the Atlantis men. Seeal thought she saw some respect in the gaze. She would bet anything that they weren't subjected to twice daily lectures.

Admittedly, after this session Seeal had an improved opinion herself of the men from another galaxy. They had worked well in a team and shown some good fighting skills.

As the crew started to leave the hall, she found herself in step with Major Sheppard. He was grinning again. She remembered him from the two occasions she had met him before, but then a man with such handsome features would tend to stick in the mind. He seemed a quite cheerful person, his eyes bright even when his expressions had appeared serious. He was an interesting choice of Political husband for an Elite warrior.

"Those were some impressive moves back there," Sheppard said to her.

She met the unusual green coloured eyes of the alien man and that sparkle of intellectual kindness shone back at her. It wasn't often you met someone with that look who had also shown some impressive fighting skills of his own.

"I would say the same about you," she replied.

"How'd you do that flip thing around that guy's side?" He asked, mimicking the action in a somewhat amusing fashion.

"Speed," she replied. "How did you get out of Si' first hold on you," she asked, not having seen how that had played out earlier.

"I saved him," Madesh's voice arrived from behind and she looked back to see him and Ru following her and Sheppard. "From _Honoured Elite _Si."

"No one tried to save me," Ru muttered, his hair spiked up with sweat to be almost as haphazard looking as Sheppard's hair.

"Seeal did," Madesh informed him. "She leapt into action to get to you."

Ru looked at her with one of his wide smiles and his eyes brightened. "Thank you."

"I didn't save you though," she pointed out to him.

Looking further down the line of their team she spied Lieutenant Ford hanging back with Nevaeh. The two were walking closer than one would normally with a new acquaintance and both of them were grinning inanely. "You've definitely lost him now," she told Sheppard, indicating the young couple.

Sheppard peered back and shrugged slightly. "Summer romance," he concluded with surprising amusement.

Seeal found herself smiling along with him. There was something very likeable about this man.

Almost near the exit to the training hall, Seeal glanced back towards where Oneakka and Si were stood only to find that Oneakka was looking her way. The Elite pointed and made a beckoning gesture with his finger.

Seeal glanced round, only to see that no one else was looking in the direction of the Elite. Not even Madesh, who was in excited conversation with Numfar. Concluding that Oneakka meant her, she stepped away from the others and looked back to the Elite warrior.

He beckoned again, this time with a gesture with his head.

What was she? The goat?

She made a beckoning gesture back at him to make a point.

Tyoosi, who's back was to her, now looked round.

With more attention on her now, she gave in to the beckoning and headed across the fast emptying training hall.

Tyoosi and Curzon both watched her approach for a second and then looked away.

Why was she being called over to them all? She quickly ran through all that had happened; had she done something wrong? She couldn't imagine that having been part of the wining team meant she was in trouble. In fact, she recalled that she still had her own cloth tucked in the back of her trousers. She reached back for it and tugged it free. As she passed by the bag that held the other cloths, she threw the orange fabric in with the others. If the Elite had something to say about her being one the last ones standing then clearly they had something to learn about fair play.

As she continued on towards the small group of men, Oneakka looked round with a look that implied she was taking too long to reach him. She made sure not to walk any faster in response to that. One eyebrow rose above the blue eyes.

She abruptly felt really unattractive. It was a sudden and surprising feeling that she couldn't remember feeling since her teenage years. Yet, she was suddenly extremely aware of how damp with sweat her clothes were and that her face felt flushed. She suspected she did not smell all that good.

It was a foolish self commentary of course, and she pushed the thoughts away as she strode confidently towards Oneakka and the others.

As she reached them she overhead some of their conversation.

"...drill by then," Tyoosi was saying.

"We expect perhaps more on the ground," Si replied. "Best be prepared in case the ship has to land."

Tyoosi nodded, and glanced round as she stepped up next to Oneakka's shoulder.

Both Curzon and Tyoosi looked at her with interesting expressions that she was not entirely sure she could interpret, which was unusual for her.

"Good work back there," Curzon told her, surprising her.

She nodded.

"It looked like you weren't going to join in for a while," Tyoosi noted.

"I'm not used to fighting for pleasure," she replied honestly.

Tyoosi' eyebrows rose with a mixture of surprise, but with what looked like a touch of approval. He looked away to Oneakka and Si. "The Strays will do fine."

"Interesting fighting styles from Atlantis," Curzon commented. "Liked it. I'm going to test them with some proper drills tomorrow, maybe weaponry the next day, if we have time."

"Sheppard's a good shot," Oneakka told him.

"They have a couple of Earth weapons with them," Tyoosi added. "I would like to see them in action."

"Do it," Oneakka agreed.

"Honoured Elite," Curzon nodded and he and Tyoosi pulled back and moved away, following the crew's route back out of the training hall.

Seeal watched the two men move away and looked back to the Elite, to find the dark symmetrical face of Si watching her. One dark eyebrow lifted, which was all the communication needed to once again remind her of his approval.

She nodded to him, respecting the silent approach from the strong man.

He moved away as well, leaving her alone with Oneakka.

It didn't look like she was in trouble, or if she was, it would be Oneakka who would tell her off. Which was hardly new.

She turned to face Oneakka directly.

He was already facing her, his arms crossing in front of his more usual moulded leather chest plate of body armour. The more normal shirt from last night felt like a distant memory in the training hall.

She looked up the tiny distance in their heights to meet his blue eyes.

"That looked easy for you," he told her.

"Nodding to Si?" She misinterpreted his comment on purpose. He employed a medium level glare as response. "Sorry, _Honoured_ _Elite_ Si," she corrected, knowing that wasn't what he had meant.

He held the glare.

He meant her fighting.

"I wouldn't call it 'easy'," she replied.

"You learn all of that in the pits?" He asked. The game they had just played had nothing on the face-to-face brutality of the pits, but Oneakka seemed impressed by her 'fighting' in the game.

It was the first time she had seen that, though she had pointed out many times that he should be impressed in her past deeds since meeting him. However, now that she actually saw that response from him, she felt oddly thrown. She felt both pleased and uncomfortable, which was stupid.

"Not all of it," she replied.

He waited for more.

"You learn what you can from whoever you're around on the streets and in the pits," she clarified.

"Did someone in particular teach you?" He probed, his direct attention feeling less comfortable for some strange reason.

"No, I just picked up bits and pieces from different people over the years," she answered him honestly.

"Are Glisi more agile than average humans?" He asked next.

He thought she was agile? Was it growing warmer in here?

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I certainly learnt to run away from them quickly enough as a child."

"Have you fought Wraith before?" He asked, apparently all about the questions this morning.

"You mean other than those trying to kill you back on the Glisi world?" She asked, pleased to be able to remind him of the event again.

His glare returned, but not as forcefully as before. It was a glare he used to say that he knew she was being purposefully difficult. She wondered why she felt the need to be that way now. It wasn't like he was baiting her or making her feel she had to defend herself. In fact he was being almost complimentary and approachable, rather like last night.

"No," she added honestly. "Not in direct hand to hand." She had dodged around Wraith on the streets as a child, using her youthful speed and pure terror to help give her the speed and agility around the grabbing Wraith. Unfortunately, there had always been slower children for the Wraith to catch and stun. She had tried to help at times, mostly as she had gotten older, but usually she had just run. The adult in her felt more than a little guilty at those memories.

"If you look to fight them, you'll need to adapt what you have against them," he said. "Deal with their faster speed and strength."

"I have fought an Elite warrior before," she considered playfully.

"I wasn't trying to kill you," he responded.

"You sure looked like you were," she argued. Was it her or was he stood closer to her than he usually did? Or had she been the one to stand closer to him?

This situation couldn't be further removed from that encounter with him on Belsa. She recalled watching him rise from a crouch on top of a rain battered roof under a dark clouded sky, the rain bouncing across his shoulders. His threat and promise to capture her had terrified her.

Stood with him now, she couldn't find any part of her that feared him anymore.

Truth be told, she rather liked his company.

"Are you worried about me surviving in the big bad universe once I get my clean record?" She asked him teasingly.

"No," he responded immediately, "but if you want the skills, you can learn them while you're here."

She shifted slightly, feeling slightly uncomfortable again. "Are you trying to persuade me to join the Alliance military after I get my clean record?"

"What you do after you leave here is your own business," Oneakka responded bluntly as he began to move away from her, his lean muscular shoulder passing hers with only an inch to spare. "Just behave yourself while you're here and you'll get that choice."

She should have known he couldn't give any kind of compliment or moment of respect without that reminder. She turned to watch him walk away.

"Do you think there'll ever be a single day in which you don't remind me to behave myself?" She challenged him, her tone light, but truthfully she was annoyed that he kept repeating it. Hadn't she proven herself to him enough already?

He looked back over his shoulder and actually smiled as he replied, "No."

She pulled a face at him as he headed out of the training hall, but she felt a bit better for the smile.

Maybe he was starting to believe she could prove herself after all.

00000  
TBC


	30. Breaking Into The Bridge

00000

**Chapter 30 – Breaking Into The Bridge**

The data streamed across the two displays in front of Teyla. Running through the latest incoming data, she was currently analysing the latest reports, scans, probe results, and battle images from the Outer Lantana battle, which included local scans of the nearby Nest System.

She had been at her work up here in the Central Station for some hours now and her stomach was rumbling for the midday meal. However, she liked the distraction of the work, as it kept her mind away from her near constant thoughts of John. Not only did she feel a multitude of emotions around her current situation with him, but she was constantly aware that he was actually here onboard the Sythus.

Such thoughts had been circling her head all morning, and she had hoped that the work on the data analysis would help her to be able to ignore them. Unfortunately, she was quite used to such analysis and was quite able to split her focus. Still, she would prefer to not indulge her wayward mind, which appeared able to bring any subject or random thought back round to the subject of John.

Sighing at herself, she opened a new bundle of data, quickly scanning through to see if there was anything of highest importance.

One such folder was flagged up for attention. She tapped it open to discover a range of reports from the Fleet ships that were closest to the Nest System.

A large Wraith cruiser ship had been sighted leaving the Nest and heading away beyond the fighting. The particular cruiser in question had not been recorded as leaving the Nest in quite some time. Its route on the scans, at least before it had jumped into hyperspace, implied that it was heading along the outer edge of the Alliance border.

She created a quick report on the matter and assigned it to all her fellow Elite to read, before returning to the rest of the reports and scans from Lantana.

As she worked her way through the next package of data, she looked up to see Si enter Central Station. He nodded towards Halling, who was stood up with the pilots working through navigation and the drills, and headed in her direction.

Si had suggested he might attend John's first training session this morning – had he done so? As he approached, she found herself scanning his expression closely, looking for any telltale indications that he might have bad news for her, or was concerned about something.

"Greetings," Si smiled faintly as he arrived, moving around the tactical display table towards her.

The question over the training session was on the tip of her tongue, but to ask now would show overt eagerness and concern. She was certain John would have acquitted himself well...she would just prefer to hear that fact out loud from her friend first.

"Have you eaten?" Si asked as he sat down on the stool beside her, his right elbow resting down on the edge of the tactical display. The closest screen to him registered his presence and displayed information for him, which he ignored, his attention entirely on her.

"Not yet," she replied. "I will eat up here so that I can finish the latest analysis."

Si nodded glancing at the displays, her latest report highlighted on the screen. "A scout cruiser," he noted as the report played across a screen for him.

"Headed out from the Nest System several of hours ago," she summarised for him. "Possibly looking for retreat space?"

Si nodded. "Or food."

She nodded in turn.

"The Nest?" He asked.

"They sent ships to scan the debris of the exploded Hive, and there has been a slight increase in the usual number of support ships moving between the Nest and the Outer Lantana battle zone," she reported. "Our Fleet destroyed one Hive and one of the largest cruisers last night."

"Is the balance leaning too much our way already?" He asked.

"With the destruction of the Hive and cruiser, there was a sharp increase in rogue fighters. With no space left for them on any of the other cruisers or Hives, the Fleet report that the fighters are landing on one moon in greater numbers. The Wraith support ships are attempting to defend and collect them."

"Are they being engaged?" Si asked.

"Yes, the fighters are being targeted from orbit," Teyla replied, drawing up the images for him. "Successfully so far, but their support ships are attempting to breach the line to reach the fighters."

"Perhaps we should let them," Si considered.

"Perhaps, but it is almost time," she reminded him. "The pretence need not go on much longer."

Si nodded sagely. "Did you hear of the training session?" He asked, changing the subject abruptly, but onto that which she truly wished to hear.

"No," she replied with what she hoped was a casual tone.

Si' eyes moved to her from the display. "Your husband acquitted himself very well," he informed her.

Relief, and no small amount of pride, blossomed in her chest as she dropped her gaze back to her screen. "I had no doubt that he would."

"He impressed Curzon and Tyoosi both."

The pride doubled. "That is good to hear," she responded simply though.

"He still needs some proper building, but Oneakka and I agree that he should be trained in our methods."

She looked up from the display screen.

"That is if you have not already begun instructing him?" He asked, and though the question was understandable and appropriate, there seemed to be something amused in her friend's tone.

"Only in bantos," she informed him, which was mostly true. She may have shown him some of her other training in the occasional play fight they had enjoyed. "The others will agree?" She checked.

"If he is going to be with us more often now then he needs to be as skilful as he can, and when he is away from us we need him to stay alive," Si summarised.

She smiled slightly at him. "I believe you are concerned about him."

"He is your husband now." It still seemed strange to hear the title applied to her life, and especially in relation to John.

"A simple contract," she responded quickly, downplaying the importance. "You have liked him for some time."

"He has a way of winning approval," Si replied. "The session crew appeared impressed; I believe they will accept him and Lieutenant Ford."

"What of Madesh?" She asked.

"He did very well," Si reported. "Oneakka and Massa have trained him well, though he still needs advanced training and more confidence. He appeared to welcome your husband's presence."

"They have some history, I suppose," she agreed.

"Seeal was the surprise though," Si added. "Her fighting skills were unusual – fast, adaptive, and appearing to be only part of what she is capable."

"Oneakka had reported she is a natural warrior," she noted.

Si nodded, but his eyes looked distant. "I agree. Oneakka wishes her to be trained with your husband and Madesh for the rest of this mission."

"I have no objection, especially as he will likely oversee such training himself."

"Mmmm," Si murmured.

Teyla frowned; she knew that sound. "What is wrong?"

Si glanced aside and then back to her. "I foresee some trouble ahead in that area."

Did he mean with John's training? "How so?"

"He watches her," Si replied, his voice lowered, the deep resonance of his voice barely audible.

Who was John watching? Was there some female among the crew that he had taken notice of already?

"Too closely, and this is not the first time I have noticed," Si clarified.

The comment implied repetition, but John had only just come onto the ship. "Who is watching?" She asked.

"Oneakka," Si clarified.

Understanding struck, and relief ran through her veins that John had not found some other woman; the sensation producing a literal rush of chills across her skin.

But, if Si' comment had not been about John, then who was Oneakka watching? She quickly turned her mind to Si' previous words, which had been regarding Seeal's skills.

"Oneakka watches Seeal?" She concluded a second later and Si nodded. "You do not think Oneakka trusts her?" She asked, surprised, for it seemed clear to her that Seeal had become less of an issue for them all. The woman had been useful and Oneakka appeared comfortable that she was trustworthy for now.

Teyla had agreed to Seeal's continuing presence on the ship, for she felt something of an intuitive sense that the woman was truthful in her determination to clear her Alliance record. That she had also played a vital part in saving the Sythus from Karthig's explosive device had only confirmed that opinion for Teyla. Even Tyoosi had stopped complaining about Seeal as much, which was useful considering there were so many new faces for Tyoosi to watch over now. Hopefully today's training session had made Tyoosi feel more comfortable with John's presence on the ship.

Yet again her mind had woven its way back to John. Forcefully pulling her thoughts back under control, she focused her attention on Si' intent expression.

"He trusts her enough, but he _watches_ her," Si repeated.

"So?" Teyla asked with confusion. Oneakka had agreed to take on the responsibility of ensuring Seeal behaved herself and provided all the information she had promised in exchange for her eventual clean record. It made sense that Oneakka would watch her carefully, so why was Si... "Oh, you mean..?"

Si nodded.

Teyla was a little surprised. Never before had she had such a discussion about Oneakka. He had shown idle interest in Nalla before, and his near brutal disagreement with Halling over Methren had been legendary on the ship. Yet, Oneakka had never had a romantic relationship with anyone that Teyla was aware, as was the way with some Elite. He always appeared solely focused on his work, his engineering skills, and, lately, hunting down Iketani' past deeds.

In the previous days when the Elite had kept slaves, Oneakka had purchased only a few from time to time, selecting only those with technical skills and always freed them. He had found very skilled workers that way, many of which still voluntarily worked for the Elite. Quite a few had been female, and Teyla had always assumed that Oneakka had found some companionship among their number. However, he was clearly very private about such matters for her not to think of a single occasion in which she had seen him flirt with someone. Teyla had seen a few female, and male, fans of the Elite try to flirt with him in the past, but such attempts had always fallen on deaf ears and a blank wall of unresponsiveness from him. He had appeared almost unaware of the undertone of offering in their words. Or rather, uncaring about such offers.

Though his one-sided scar and facial tattoos dominated his appearance, she could see that Oneakka's features were pleasing in a blunt way. He had a very strong, dynamic bone structure that she could read as handsome, though she was not attracted to him herself. His overly blue eyes only added to his unusual appearance, and his smile, when he deployed it, transformed his demeanour. On another man with more flirtatious intentions, such a smile would be a powerful weapon.

John's smile was something like a weapon upon her - which brought her thoughts, yet again, back to her new husband. She recalled Oneakka's quiet supportive understanding only days ago on the subject of John and her marriage. So lost in her own world, had she missed something different in his life in turn?

"They do bicker considerably," she realised out loud as she replayed the times she had seen Oneakka and Seeal interact of late, seeing it all now in a new light.

Now that she thought about it, she realised how obvious their behaviour was to her. It was probably only the fact that the two had been battling from the start, and that Teyla had been so distracted in her own personal issues, that had caused her to miss what was now very clear.

Except this was Oneakka, who spent much of his time dismissing personal issues and emotions.

Si nodded again, one eyebrow lifted.

"Are you concerned she will use that fact in some way?" Teyla theorised. She had not thought Seeal the type – she seemed more inclined to keep away from people.

She wondered what Oneakka's feelings for Seeal might be. Was it simply a passing attraction or perhaps a fascination with someone new and different – her attraction to John had been partly fuelled by such feelings at first. Was Seeal a passing fascination or a desire from which he kept a strict distance?

She had discussed personal issues with Oneakka before, though not about any of his possible lovers, and she wondered whether she should bring up the matter with him now. He had provided her with support in his quiet, blunt manner – with the exception of the sleeping arrangements of the marriage contract. She had wondered about that behaviour, and now considered if his own attraction to Seeal might have spurned him on to push her and John closer together again.

No, Oneakka would not do such a thing. He did not believe in overt emotional attachments – he had lost far too much. Except, she knew he deeply loved his closest friends, of which she knew she was one.

So his involvement in the discussion about John's sleeping arrangements might mean something. Perhaps Oneakka disagree with her decision to part ways from John emotionally? The thought struck her oddly, bringing traitorous thoughts and feelings to the surface. She knew she loved John, but it was a love that was too distracting, too much, too...

"She seems trustworthy," Si concluded, drawing her back into the conversation.

She studied Si, assessing his expression closely. "Yet, you are worried."

Si made the same deep murmur. "I think it worth honouring his suggestion to train her properly, so that he will feel comfortable in her chances of survival when she leaves."

"Will she leave?" Teyla considered. Perhaps he and Seeal had already begun an affair.

"He will not enter into a relationship, it is not his way," Si stated.

"Such things can change in people's lives," she argued softly, knowing that Si would understand that she spoke from her own experience...until her recent decision to retract such a relationship.

"Not with Oneakka," Si shook his head. "He will not risk losing anything more in his life."

That insightful logic about their colleague and friend was true enough. Oneakka had not only lost his entire people, but, as an Elite, he had seen colleagues fall almost constantly, and in particular Methren's death and watching Massa suffer the lost of Mera and their unborn child.

This was why Elite did not have relationships, why they did not usually marry.

Elite fought, killed, and died.

It was the same logical argument that she repeated to herself frequently of late, yet, when applied to Oneakka, she wanted to argue the point. She wanted to insist that her friend was entitled to seek out intimacy with others, emotionally as well as physically. He deserved so much for all he had done, for all the many lives he had saved. Why could he not be with someone if he was drawn to them? He should enjoy however much of his Elite life he had remaining.

Why did such thoughts make so much sense when applied to Oneakka, but not to herself?

A sharp loud alarm cut through her prolonged distracted thoughts. She rose swiftly from her seat, Si moving with her towards the front of the Central Station.

Halling looked up from a console. "We have a border breach," he announced.

"Where?" Teyla demanded as they gathered at Halling's console.

The alarm silenced at Si' command, but the flashing red warnings across the console continued.

A Wraith ship had entered Alliance territory somewhere along the border. Border stations and probes kept a constant vigil on the border and, though rare now, breaches of the line did occasionally still happen.

"Monitoring stations from two sectors report the destruction of border probes between them at...the Arkinian system," Halling reported looking up from the console.

"Close to where the damaged Hive was first detected," Si gave voice to their thoughts.

"The monitoring stations registered only a single ship entering before the probes went down," Halling reported from the display. "A large scout cruiser."

"As the one that departed the Nest System only hours ago," Teyla realised. "The timeframe would make sense with a hyperspace jump."

"They are venturing out?" Halling considered. "Looking for food or territory to infiltrate. This close to Lantana it could be looking to get around behind the Fleet from a greater distance away."

"We are the closest ship," Si announced. "If we alter course we will be there almost instantly, and it should only delay our arrival at Lantana by a few hours."

"The Military Council are requesting we do just that," Halling added as the message flowed across the display.

"I believe it is vital we do so," Teyla gave her opinion.

"I agree," Halling nodded.

"Agreed," Si intoned before he turned towards the two piloting stations. "Drop us from hyperspace and reset course for the Arkinian system."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," the lead pilot responded and instantly the massive front display shifted from the sparkle of hyperspace to the dark and starlight of normal space. The primary pilot's hands flew over her console and the hyperspace engine displays began to light up again.

Teyla turned back to Halling's console. "Why that system though?" She pondered as she drew up a display of the Arkinian system. "The Hive that was destroyed was not in that actual system, though close by. There is nothing in Arkinian, no lives to steal and no resources to gather."

"Other than to perhaps reclaim their ancient base in that system," considered Halling.

"If so, they will not get the chance," Teyla promised and both men nodded.

Across the far end of the Central Station, Nalla, Oneakka, Seifer, and Tyoosi entered, their expressions tense and bodies ready for battle.

"We have a border breach," Teyla reported to them as they approached. "One large scout cruiser into the Arkinian system. We have changed course for the system."

000000

"That can't be good," John muttered up towards the flashing light and the loud barking alarm that echoed through the Sythus' canteen.

Except none of the crew were running to battle stations or anything, but they were all quiet, all faces turned towards the flashing light.

After another blaring round, the alarm shut off, silence ringing in John's ears.

"What was that?" Ford asked nervously from John's right, Nevaeh sat on the kid's other side.

Some of The Strays had navigated together for lunch in the canteen, and the bonding experience of the game this morning had already given them something of a reputation among the rest of the crew. Quite a few of The Cues and Wraith Eaters from this morning had taken the time to throw teasing comments or compliments their way as they passed by the table, and clearly they were all the talk of the canteen.

"High level alert for the Elite," Numfar explained. "The full ship-wide alarm will be louder and faster, and the red lights flash," he said as he gestured up to the canteen ceiling. John looked up to the series of blubs, and what might be smoke detectors, across the ceiling. "You won't miss it when you hear it," Numfar promised.

"But something's happening," Ford interpreted.

"Some vital information has most likely come in for the Elite," Nevaeh told them as she scooped up more of her food, appearing relaxed.

John didn't feel relaxed. He didn't like not knowing what was going on.

He wondered if, as Teyla's husband, he could go up to their version of a bridge and demand to know what was going on. Except he was pretty sure that area was marked as restricted on the pads Tyoosi had given him and Ford.

"There'll be an announcement soon," Nevaeh promised.

"Perhaps it is about the upcoming battle," Madesh considered.

"It could be anything," Seeal reasoned. "We're not in the know."

"If the red lights and alarms start," Numfar told them, "you need to return to your quarters."

"We've heard the briefing several times," Seeal interrupted for them. "We go hide and let you all deal with the problem." She didn't sound like she approved of that plan any more than John did.

"We wouldn't want any important people from Atlantis getting hurt," Nevaeh smiled at Ford. "Not that you aren't perfectly capable of defending yourselves."

"We do okay," Ford boasted.

John glanced at Seeal and they shared a look. John was almost certain he never behaved or spoke like that around Teyla.

"What planet are you from?" Ford asked Nevaeh.

Seeal rolled her eyes.

White lights began flashing from the ceiling. "All ship hands," Tyoosi' voice announced loudly throughout the room. "The ship has been redirected to the Arkinian system where there has been a reported breach of our border. All hands are to report to battle ready stations."

The Canteen exploded into activity.

"See you later," Numfar announced as he got up to leave.

"Where do we go?" John asked.

"To your quarters," Numfar replied as he hustled away.

"Best protect yourselves," Nevaeh winked at Ford.

John frowned at the departing rush of people. He had nothing to do here, nowhere to go but run and hide? Just sit back and hope it all works out okay?

The last few crewmembers paused at the doorway and Oneakka appeared.

"Seeal! Madesh!" He ordered and disappeared.

The two glanced at each other and got up hurriedly from their places at the table.

"Hey," John objected.

"Go hide," Seeal stated over her shoulder with a smile as she and Madesh headed out of the canteen, and abruptly he and Ford were the only people left in the room. No one was even been left to keep an eye on them.

John looked round at Ford.

"Let's go find out what's happening," he decided, pushing up from the bench.

"Aren't we supposed to go to our quarters?" Ford asked, but probably mostly for show.

"No one's watching us," John pointed out, though maybe Numfar was supposed to be doing that, but clearly there were more important things going on. "If the Wraith are about to attack the Alliance, I want to know about it."

"Sure, because that'll make a difference," Ford muttered from behind as John led the way out into the corridor.

"Don't worry," John told him over his shoulder, "you've got your flashbang," he teased.

The corridor reached a junction and John paused, orientating himself. He was almost certain he knew the way to the ship's bridge. He just needed to find the transport/elevator thingy first. He took the left turn and then changed his mind and kept going straight.

Yep, this was the way.

The white lights over the doors flashed again. "Ship wide drill will begin shortly, all hands to their stations," Tyoosi' voice repeated.

"That way," Ford pointed past John's shoulder towards the transporter's doors, which John had already spied.

"I know," John stated as they hurried towards the Elite elevator. He pressed the button he had seen people use plenty of times. The doors slid open and he and Ford got in together.

The panel inside was in Alliance lettering, or possibly numbering. John dug out his Alliance electronic pad from his top jacket pocket. It only just fit and he had to wrestle it free.

"This symbol is this floor," Ford pointed to one hieroglyph. "And I think this was the one with the gym."

John patted awake his pad. "We've got to learn this stuff."

"None of this is going in my report," Ford promised.

"Yeah, like I won't be mentioning your little schoolboy crush," John teased as he brought up the ship's map on the pad.

"Why'd you offer to marry Emmagan again?" Ford asked pointedly from his inspection of the panel.

John frowned at the pad and decided to ignore that one completely. First Carter and now Ford...who else had worked out that he and Teyla hadn't been 'just good friends'?

"Okay, this is our current level," he pointed to the panel.

"That's what I said," Ford argued.

"This is the barracks level you sleep in," John pointed to several levels up. "Hopefully not too close to Nevaeh," he added.

"Which level is the bridge on?" Ford sighed.

"They call it the Central Station," John corrected him. "Here," he dragged the pad's screen to show the front end of the ship on the map. "This symbol," he pressed one of the top ones.

"I could have guessed that," Ford bantered. He leant in to look at the pad in John's hand. "Doesn't that say it's a restricted area? Weren't we told not to go into restricted areas?"

"Maybe," John conceded.

"Aren't we going to get into trouble for this?" Ford asked as the transporter took them up the ship.

"You're starting to sound like McKay," John retaliated as he watched the lights changing across the Alliance screen next to the symbols. He needed to learn how to read Alliance quick.

"I'm just saying we haven't been on the ship a whole day yet and we're already breaking the rules," Ford pointed out as the transporter stopped and the doors slid open.

They both leaned out together to see who was in the corridor outside.

"It's more like bending the rules," John theorised, keeping his voice low.

There wasn't anyone in the corridor as they stepped out, but he could hear voices and footsteps nearby. He looked down at the pad again. He remembered that the outlying corridor led to a front entrance to the Central Station, but there was also another door into the Central Station at the back, which would probably be the one to head for. He found the door on the pad and took the right corridor turning.

"If we get stopped, we'll just say we're lost," he added to the clearly nervous Ford.

"That's not that far off the truth," Ford muttered low, but John heard him and glared at him.

"Look, apparently I'm an important political figure now," John argued weakly, as he consulted the pad and took another turning. There were open doors along this part of the corridor and through them he could see crew hurriedly working away on consoles inside. They all looked too busy to notice him and Ford walking quickly cross the open doorways. "So, by that reasoning, I should know what's going on, right?" He finished as they hurried by another open door.

"We'll see if they buy that," Ford replied.

"Up ahead," John pointed towards a distant hatchway that stood open. There were a hell of a lot of open doors between here and that target though, and crew were crossing between them looking busy. "Just look like we're meant to be here," he ordered and strode forward, slipping the pad back into his jacket pocket.

People recognised him obviously, but no one stopped them, presumably because they assumed he and Ford were authorised to be here. A few that frowned, John just smiled at and kept walking, towards and finally through the distant hatch.

The lighting was slightly lower in the Central Station, but there were enough blinky lights and glowing computer screens for him to see several Elite gathered around their central control station. The top of the table was a series of touchscreens that Si, Halling, and Teyla were all currently working on.

John moved towards them, but security had noticed his and Ford's arrival.

"Halt," several stated at once, stunners rising and pointing threateningly. John immediately put his hands right up, palms forward, glad his P90 was back in his quarters.

At the far end of Central Station, John saw Tyoosi step into view and frown forebodingly.

"Hey, no threat here," John promised the guards. "No threat."

Ford had his hands up higher, his shoulder bumping against John's.

"It is alright," Teyla stated to the guards, and the stunners lowered. "They can stay."

John waited until the stunners were in their holsters before he lowered his hands though. Ford sighed heavily, pulling off his hat to wipe at his forehead, which made one of the guards twitch.

"Relax, relax," Ford uttered quickly.

"Honoured Elite Emmagan?" Tyoosi had arrived and wasn't looking happy about the restricted area issue.

"They are fine for now," Teyla replied almost dismissively, her attention back on the screens in front of her. John could tell from her body language that the situation was serious up here. He was especially glad he had taken the risk coming up here now.

Across from Teyla, Halling nodded to Tyoosi as well, and the Security Chief backed off slowly, but not without a scornful look that told John that he and Ford were in for a mammoth telling off later. That would be fun, but it could wait, because clearly the border breach had all the Elite's attention.

John stepped up to the side of the display table, sliding into place at Teyla's left side. "What's going on?" He asked quietly.

"Wraith have invaded an empty system along our border, not too far from the battle," Teyla replied.

"This system," Halling pointed to a star chart on one of the touch screens. "Do you know anything about it?"

John leant forward, Ford doing the same at his shoulder.

"Sorry no," John regretfully reported. "This area though," he pointed further away from the dark line, that was presumably the Alliance border, "We evacuated planets there and here." He pointed to the two he was almost certain had been cleared, and the tiny circles set beside the planets in question implied to him that they had Gates.

"Thank you," Halling replied, tapping the screen and it shifted to a load of code and information.

"How many ships?" John asked, mostly towards Teyla.

"Only one cruiser was detected before the probes were destroyed. There could be many more by now," she replied, her eyes focused down.

He watched what she was doing on the screens; it looked like she was going back through several video feeds. One showed a partial image of a glowing blue planet and another of a rocky barren view with a yellow sun in the distance.

"Anything we can help with?" He offered, feeling like a third wheel.

Teyla looked up towards Si and Halling. "They could look through these feeds."

Both Elite men looked at John and then Ford. Si nodded and Halling frowned, but didn't say anything.

Teyla made a sweeping motion across her screens and six video images slid into the screens in front of John. "You need to look through all of these feeds by eye and watch these readings." She indicated the series of small diagrams beside each video feed. "Look for anything anomalous. Something the sensors did not highlight or report as obvious."

"Sure," John agreed. He touched his fingers over the left hand three video feeds and, as Teyla had done, he swept them towards the next screen along, at which Ford now stood at the end of the table top console.

"I can't read these," Ford muttered quietly to him.

"Doesn't matter," John instructed. "Just watch the video and look for anything that spikes in the readings." Ford nodded.

John activated one video. It was a set view across part of a solar system, two planets in view. Nothing was happening except the slow tumble of a few asteroids passing slowly through the shot. He found the control to fast-forward faster, looking for anything unusual to jump out. As he did, he was acutely aware of Teyla beside him, her shoulder brushing against his as she worked.

"The comparisons are complete," Halling announced. "The invading cruiser is definitely the same ship that left the Nest System this morning."

John glanced from his second video to the image of the Wraith cruiser. Only something shifted in the video and he quickly focused back on it. Tiny lights lit up to the right, weapons fire blazing towards the feed and the video died. He replayed the end, seeing the edge of the Wraith cruiser in the view moments before the weapons fire took out the camera recording the invading Wraith ship. It didn't really help matters though, so he moved onto the third video.

"Just that one cruiser on this feed," Ford muttered from his latest video.

"Nothing new recorded from the monitoring stations further along the border," Seifer reported stepping through from the front part of the Central Station. "They haven't detected any further Wraith transmissions or signatures."

John frowned at the third video before him and paused it. "What's this?" He asked the table at large.

Teyla leant closer. "An ancient Wraith base on the moon."

"Okay, but what's this?" He pointed to a little flash of light at one end of the dark dot that was the old Wraith base on the rocky moon.

Teyla reached in and expanded the image with a touch. The expanded image spread out to fill more of the table top screens.

"A catch of light?" Seifer considered as they all watched. Teyla played the video back through. There was something catching the light oddly.

"If you go back, it's not there earlier," John reached in and replayed the video.

"There are small spikes of energies with its first appearance," Halling noted. "Almost as if it were a Portal or hyperspace window, but the energies are too low."

"Far too low," Seifer agreed as the video played again.

The object was too far away and too bright to make any difference in an enlarged view, but it had obviously appeared suddenly – nothing there one minute and the next a definite spot of light.

Teyla fast-forwarded the video, but the object remained where it was, just a shiny point at the end of the abandoned Wraith base catching the system's sunlight until the moment that the feed went dead.

"That's no moon, that's a space station," John whispered to himself as he watched the video play again, the Sythus' computer analysing it further.

"There is no corresponding cross feed of that area," Teyla was saying.

"It is a dead system, there has been no need," Tyoosi answered her from the far end of the table.

"When was the last time you checked the Wraith base?" John asked.

Teyla looked round, her golden skin smooth in the uplighting of the screens. She tapped on another screen. "The system was emptied of Wraith within the last year."

"But no one's gone in and checked it recently?" John asked.

"We would have detected any Wraith breach of the border towards it," Teyla replied.

"Except if it's that," John pointed to the sparkling little light on the paused video, "and can appear out of nowhere."

"There's nothing else on the videos," Ford put in. "It didn't fly in from anywhere."

"How far away are we from the system?" Teyla asked Seifer.

"We'll be there shortly," he replied, which John didn't think was all that informative.

"There was a spike here," Halling announced, pushing another screen into the centre of the console for all to see. "Here, overlying the radiation from the asteroid belt."

"Looks like a Wraith signal," Si considered. He tapped the screen. "Send it down to Oneakka and the others, see if they can analyse it along with breaking the latest Wraith code."

Halling nodded and tapped away.

John glanced at Teyla beside him. She was slightly on edge, but not anxious. The Elite were concerned, but not desperately worried.

"We will exit hyperspace in ten count," someone called from the front.

"Battle stations," Tyoosi announced and the promised red lights began flashing on the ceiling. A loud alarm bellowed, which John now remembered vividly from the Hastos. He glanced at Ford, who was staring forward towards the far viewscreen, but Teyla, Halling, and Si were watching the display screens, which were displaying real time feed of all the ship's outward cameras and sensors.

"Two, one," someone called and the slightest shudder of exiting hyperspace vibrated under John's boots.

"Scanning the system," Halling stated loudly. Busy looking techs around the sides of the Central Station started hurrying about looking even busier.

"I'm detecting massive energy signatures," someone reported.

"On the display," Teyla ordered and half the multitude of screens on the tabletop were abruptly filled with lines of data that John didn't have a chance of understanding.

"Detecting weapons fire," someone immediately interpreted.

"Not directed towards us," Si noted.

"Wraith fire?" John asked.

"Yes," Teyla replied. "Do we have a read on the Wraith cruiser?" She asked hotly.

"Nothing in orbit of the – I have it," Halling confirmed and then frowned. "It is down on the base moon."

Bring us towards it," Seifer ordered towards the pilots, "keep that large asteroid partly between us and their direct line of sight."

John watched another screen come to life, showing several more feeds of the outside. He watched the beautiful piloting manoeuvre that brought them into partial view of the distant moon.

He couldn't see the base on the moon's surface because the Wraith cruiser was in the way.

Only something was wrong.

"It's damaged," Halling reported. "I'm not detecting any life readings, the engine is disabled and I'm reading multiple hull breaches."

All eyes turned to the images passing over the table.

"It crashed into the base?" Teyla asked.

"Half of it is crushed into the base, the rest is on fire and venting atmosphere, otherwise all readings are dead," Halling stated.

"Any other ships in the system?" Teyla asked hurriedly.

"Nothing," someone answered.

"Nothing at all?" She demanded sweeping her hand over a screen to reveal more real time views of the system around the Sythus.

"There are no energy readings apart from the cruiser ablaze," Halling stated sounding confused.

"So it flew all the way to this system, to this base, and just crashed into it?" John asked doubtfully.

"The unidentified light object from the video feed must be the cause," Seifer concluded. "The Wraith ship must have come here for it, drawn by it, or to capture it."

"You are certain the cruiser is without any power?" Teyla checked.

"Nothing, in fact...the engine is missing," Halling noted with another frown.

"There are residual radiation readings off near the far side of the asteroid field," Si noted. "The engine must have been ejected and detonated."

"Could that account for the damage to the cruiser?" Teyla asked.

"No," Halling replied. "The damage appears- wait." All eyes snapped to one screen.

Something was catching the light near the downed cruiser.

"Hold position," Seifer shouted towards the pilots and the image immediately halted its progress out from behind the asteroid. "Scans?"

"It's reading as Wraith," Teyla reported. "Organic structure, but with some-"

The shiny object abruptly rose up into the moon's orbit above the downed cruiser. It looked the same as the one John had found on the video feed, but it was hard to tell.

"Weapons ready," Seifer shouted.

John leant forward towards the screen as if that would help him identify the thing that was now hovering unmoving above the moon.

"Weapons are ready; Target its weapons," Teyla ordered.

"No obvious signature of weaponry," someone replied.

"Target its engine then," Teyla responded.

The shiny object suddenly made a run for it, speeding up away from the moon.

"It is reading as Wraith, but the numbers are off," Seifer reported. "We should fire upon it, if it-"

"It is changing direction," Si interrupted.

John watched as the shiny dot changed direction abruptly, heading off to the right now, which would soon conceal it from the Sythus' position partially behind the asteroid.

"Bring us out from behind the asteroid," Seifer ordered.

Only suddenly bursts of weapons fire shone in the distance on the screen, growing closer.

"Evasive manoeuvres," Si ordered towards the pilots at the front, not that the pilots wouldn't have worked that out by themselves. By John's eye, they had plenty of time to act as the UFO was still far enough away.

"It's making a run for it," John concluded out loud. The weapons fire was a distraction.

"More fire incoming," someone reported and John watched the pilots working, shifting the Sythus just out of the line of fire of the arriving first shots and then having to reposition to avoid the next incoming volley.

"Return fire," Teyla shouted the order and John watched new colourful life blast out from the side of the Sythus, some of it impacting the incoming weapons fire. The resulting energy rocked the Sythus enough for John to feel the shift on the deck under his feet.

More weapons fire filled the views.

"It is behind us," a voice announced sharply.

"How did it do that?" Seifer asked shocked.

John switched his view to the new arrival in two of the screens.

"Weapons firing," Halling shouted as the ship juddered.

John gripped a tight hold of the side of the display table, pleased to find there were handholds designed into the thing. He got a good grip and glanced at Ford. The kid was watching all the action with the focus on a man who had seen enough of his own action now. John stopped worrying about him and refocused on the enemy ship attacking them.

The Sythus banked sharply, shifting them all slightly, the action so fast and tight that it challenged the ship's artificial gravity. John gripped the table handle harder with his left hand and reached out to steady Teyla's back with his right, planting his feet wide on the deck.

"Some damage reported," Tyoosi was saying as the screens filled with blazing light, the images now overlaid with computerised outlines so the details weren't lost in the mass of the lightshow.

John frowned at the image of the enemy ship – it didn't look right for a Wraith ship. It had a metal hull across the top for one thing, the lightshow from the weapons fire reflecting off it.

It was a weird shape too, bigger than a dart, but far smaller than any other Wraith ship John had seen before and it was shaped rather like an egg. Fire blazed over it as John watched, and he saw sparks scatter over its upper metallic hull. There was something else really wrong about that upper hull – it was craggy, like a mountain top mixed with a Mohawk.

"Enemy ship is fast approaching, impact imminent!" A voice shouted.

A craggy topped ship meant lots of thick plates, sharp and...

John gripped a tighter hold of the table and reached further around Teyla's back, holding her in place beside the table. He watched with an expert eye the Sythus' pilots make fast and decisive manoeuvres, but John's own experience told him it wasn't going to be enough.

"All hands brace for ship impact," Tyoosi shouted across the Central Station, his voice echoing along with the alarm and flashing lights.

"Higher!" Seifer shouted to the pilots as the weird Wraith ship dipped and curved up towards the Sythus' belly as she tried to move away. John could tell there wasn't enough time to get out the way though, as fast and powerful as the Sythus was, there were still physics at work that were non-negotiable.

Yet, in the split second before the impact, he saw the Sythus lifting and turning in relation to the Wraith ship. It wouldn't be enough, but might save the ship.

The Sythus juddered and rocked violently, the lights and the screens flickering for an instance. John held onto Teyla and the table as tightly as he could, but his eyes were fixed on the flickering displays and on the feel of the ship under his boots.

The screens stilled, the ship settling with another shudder, and he watched as the Wraith ship powered ahead, emerging out from under the Sythus with a few sparks and debris scattering around it. Beside the image another large display showed the Sythus in outline, then zoomed in to the lower hull, a series of small lines flashing in red.

"Minimal damage!" Halling shouted as his hand tapped the display. "Detecting minor hull damage, only outer hull."

"Enemy ship is broadcasting a signal," another voice shouted as the Wraith ship kept powering away from them across the screens.

"Block it," Teyla ordered, at which point John realised he still had his arm around her back. He didn't let go of her though, not until this was over. He might not be able to help with all the orders, but he could keep her upright and able to focus on giving those orders.

"Reading massive energy readings on the enemy ship," Halling added, Si pushing in at his side, the two of them watching a screen that John could see was flashing red in a lot of places.

"It's going detonate," Si shouted.

"Emergency evasive manoeuvres," Seifer called.

John braced against the table and Teyla again, hoping that the smaller size of the UFO would translate to a smaller explosion.

The screens lit up across the table, light pouring against John's retinas.

The ship rocked again to the left, but it was more of a buffering than another impact.

"Unknown vessel has self-destructed," a tech reported. "Minimal debris field, no energy signals or lifesigns detected."

"Damage to the Sythus?" Seifer called.

The floor stable under their feet again, John made himself let go of his death grip of the table edge and from around Teyla. She glanced at him as he did, her look assessing if he was okay. He nodded to her, but looked away off towards Ford. Only the kid wasn't there. John leant away from the table to see Ford picking himself up of the floor.

"You okay?" John offered him a hand, feeling bit guilty about forgetting about him in those few seconds.

"I'm good, Sir," Ford reported. Several of the crew were also getting up from the floor at his end of the Central Station, so Ford was in good company at least.

"...gouges on the underside of the ship," a tech was relaying. "Fourteen small hull breaches, repair crews are responding."

"How big are the hull breaches?" Teyla asked.

"Largest is..." Halling was the other one to answer her, "two foot across."

"Scanning the Sythus for Wraith," Si announced, his hands moving swiftly across the screen in front of him. "Negative."

"I do not sense any Wraith onboard," Teyla stated and Si was nodding along with her.

John let himself relax a bit. "What was that thing?"

"Unknown," Halling replied, but in front of him several 3D images of the Wraith UFO spun among lines of data. "Wraith signatures, though with previously unseen variations, but the upper hull has metallic properties rather than the standard Wraith organic structure. That might account for some of the variations in these readings."

"New tech?" Teyla asked grimly.

"Most likely," Halling agreed.

"Send everything to the research teams," Teyla suggested. "Any other readings in the system?"

"Ongoing scans of the system report nothing," Halling stated. "No other unusual readings other than the increased radiation from the cruiser's engine detonation.

"Which makes more sense now," Seifer stated as he approached and leant on the far end of the display table. "If it was hit from underneath, its engine targeted, it would be similar damage to what we saw on the previous Hive."

"And almost on the Sythus," John pointed out.

"Which will also be why that first Hive limped its way back to the Nest System," Teyla considered, though John had no idea what they were talking about, but he listened in closely. "Perhaps their mission had been to report this new Wraith tech to the Nest System."

"And this cruiser was sent to investigate," Halling concluded.

"Which means they might not know what it is," John considered out loud. "Or they want it for themselves."

"The object appeared above the base only shortly before the cruiser arrived though," Teyla considered. "Did it draw the cruiser there on purpose? Why not engage elsewhere?"

"Maybe they wanted to force the cruiser to breach the border?" John considered and her dark eyes looked round at him.

"Perhaps to draw the Alliance into a fight as well?" she theorised back. "Maybe a rival Wraith Hive."

"Maybe they left some of that tech on the base when you forced them out?" John guessed, enjoying the sudden return of how they had used to talk, work things out together.

"They could have back for it," she nodded.

"The only way to be sure is to fully examine the base," Halling interjected.

"Which is currently buried under tons of Wraith cruiser crashed into it," John replied. "Convenient."

"Someone hiding their tracks," Ford nodded sagely.

"Or perhaps the Wraith cruiser destroyed something in the base?" Seifer considered.

"We should order in research ships to go through both the cruiser and then the base beneath. We can also collect some of the debris from the enemy ship," Si stated.

"And we need to continue to Lantana," Seifer added.

"Only once all our repairs are complete," Teyla replied. "We cannot risk a hull breach in hyperspace."

"This could change matters in the battle zone," Seifer worried. "If there is a new Wraith player, perhaps looking to challenge the Nest System..."

John knew about the system that the Wraith had taken over, and he also knew from Teyla's past comments that the Elite were allowing such a Wraith build up. The big battle they were heading into was right on the doorstep of that system, so that could only mean the Elite had a cunning plan up their collective sleeves. A plan that was going to get delayed by this strange run in with new Wraith tech. He just hated it when the Wraith got inventive.

"It will likely only encourage the Wraith to hold fast in the stronghold that is the Nest System," Halling replied to Seifer.

"They might not know about the UFO being able to appear out of nowhere," John put in.

There were a few frowns around the table.

"UFO?" Teyla asked, and there was a touch of amusement in her voice, which he hadn't heard for what felt like years.

"Earth term," he explained. "Unidentified Flying Object, UFO."

"A useful term," Halling considered and John shared a brief smile with Ford next to him.

"Wait till you hear about X Files," John added.

"Hull repair is underway," Tyoosi interrupted as he moved around the table behind the Elite, heading towards the back exit out of Central Station. "Ru reports that, on initial assessment, the hull repairs will likely take three to five hours to ensure full hull integrity for hyperspace. We will need to put into space dock for full inspection at a later point, but it will be mostly cosmetic. We will be both battle and flight worthy in five hours."

"Five hours," Seifer muttered. "For only minimal damage?"

"We cannot risk damaging the Sythus by rash action," Teyla put in.

"I will personally oversee the start of the repairs," Tyoosi stated pausing close to Ford. "And perhaps afterwards I shall review the ship's restricted areas with our new guests."

John glanced from the security man to Teyla. The excitement was apparently over now and the telling off would soon begin.

Teyla looked from John to Tyoosi and he saw the faintest of smiles to her lips. "Do what you feel is necessary, Tyoosi."

Great. John narrowed his eyes at her, but that light smile on her lips widened as she looked back down to the screens.

The faint smile was a tiny thing, but it still felt like a major win for him.

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TBC


	31. Unanswered Questions

**Note:** Thank you guys for the reviews, and thank you to those I cannot reply to directly through FF as you are guests on the site.  
Just a quick reply to "Endgame65"'s question – Maybe check out the epilogue of the last big Alliance fic (In Choice and Freedom) for your answer (plus there might have been a few hints here and there since ;) Thanks again.

Right, here's two new chapters for the weekend - I hope you all enjoy them.

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**Chapter 31 – Unanswered Questions**

Oneakka watched the latest compiled display of the new Wraith ship turn on the tactical screen before him. Rows of data appeared around the 3D image, details still being added in real time as the computers and technicians analysed everything. Out beyond the Sythus' hull the debris of the actual ship in question had formed its own small floating nebula of twisted burnt remains, which the research crews would soon be arriving to scoop up and study in greater detail.

He shifted his gaze to another screen on the table top tactical display, this screen displaying the real time recordings of the crashed Wraith cruiser which had finally stopped venting the last of its atmosphere some time ago. The back end of the ship sat like a mountain protruding from the remains of the ancient Wraith moon base it had crashed into. Had it been dragged down to that exact location on the moon or had it crashed there on purpose? It hadn't had an engine at that point, so would it have been able to direct its crash vector so precisely? Oneakka had seen such behaviour before in battle – the last ditch attempt of a ship's commander was to use their dying ship to inflict as much damage as possible on the enemy. Why then would the Wraith in question want to destroy a Wraith base, even if it had been claimed by a rival group?

Or had it been trying to hide something in the base, or to take it from its enemies? Maybe from the Alliance rather than rival Wraith.

There were far too many questions, and Oneakka wasn't convinced that even the best research minds in the Alliance would have enough to work out the answers. Even if they did, it would take some time, and a conclusion certainly wouldn't be reached before the Outer Lantana battle reached its conclusion and the strike on the Nest System had occurred.

However, that did not stop the need for a review of all the data, which was the reason for the crowded group stood around the tactical display up here in Central Station. Oneakka wasn't entirely sure so many were needed here for the meeting, but it had been decided that everyone who had been on duty during the attack or had worked on the data should be here. All minds in one place. It had its usefulness, but Oneakka wasn't sure much would be achieved by this meeting.

Seifer was presenting the main report and updating everyone on what had happened and the latest results. Oneakka kept one ear on the report, but reached forward to tap a screen in front of him, turning the 3D display of the new ship round to look at the scans of the thing's unusual upper hull.

The craggy top ridge ran from the more pointed end of the Wraith ship down almost to its wider back end. It was shaped rather like a seed, which had resulted in the name "Seed Ship" among the crew. The Elite knew more than most how the Wraith grew their ships, and that the ships could be grown larger and denser with time. So perhaps this strangely small Wraith ship was a precursor to a new larger Hive or cruiser they were developing.

He tapped another screen to display the underside damage of the Sythus' hull. The damage inflicted in the attack glowed in red, each point of injury analysed and associated with a part of the upper hull of the Seed ship. It was minimal damage really, but it had been enough to halt the Sythus' progress for hours. If the impact had been more direct and perhaps faster, then the damage would have been far worse. Fortunately the Sythus had the best of pilots and the Sythus' hull, smooth as it was...

Oneakka frowned at the display... He reached slightly to his right commandeering a further screen between him and Halling. He ran through folders of data and pulled up the scans of the Hive ship that had been seen limping to the Nest System yesterday.

A shift of movement behind his right shoulder told him that Seeal was leaning forward to look at what he was doing. She and the other techs who he had been working with down in the labs were here, stood behind him, listening in to Seifer's report. The Wraith code was still stubbornly difficult to break, but Seeal and another tech had worked together to break through the hazing. As Oneakka had suspected, the coding was from beyond the Alliance and Seeal had recognised part of it. Dreamstation used something similar apparently, which was a fact that Oneakka had noted down in his report. That fact, combined with her decoding of the hazing, would provide Division and Enforcement with some useful intell regarding the criminal space station that was Dreamstation.

The combined scan results of the damage inflicted on the first Hive shifted up next to the Sythus' damage and the Seed ship's upper hull. Someone had already compared them and had already reported that the probability was extremely high that indeed it had been this Seed ship that had damaged that first Hive. But it was the shape of the Hive's normal hull that interested Oneakka.

The design of the upper hull of the new Seed ship was such that when rammed against the hull of another Wraith ship, it would be likely to inflict significant damage to the uneven design of most Wraith ships. The craggy design of the Seed ship suddenly looked very purposefully designed to damage uneven hulls, such as the organically grown Wraith ships. Had the Seed ship been outfitted with its metal plating in order to specifically attack other Wraith ships? If so, it was the first time Oneakka had seen such design among the Wraith, intended to specifically target their own ships' weaknesses.

Seeal shifted a little closer, her warmth becoming more obvious behind his right upper arm. She was peering through the small space between his and Halling's shoulders as she studied the same data as Oneakka. He waited a beat and then shifted a fraction further to the right to block the space she was looking through. He felt a burst of satisfaction at the resulting heavy sigh, intended only for his ears, as she pulled back a little. There wasn't a huge amount of space around the tactical station with so many stood around it, but the Elite were all given enough space and held the priority position around the table. Everyone else held a respectful distance behind the Elite, except Seeal of course. She wasn't too close to him, but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiated by her body.

Ignoring her presence, he focused on quickly recording his thoughts on the intentions behind the Seed ship's design in with the rest of the Seed ship data. The task complete, he lifted his attention back to Seifer's ongoing report.

Seifer stood at the end of the table, an engineer stood just back from his side. Ru was still overseeing the repairs and would arrive soon to personally provide his report, but until then he had assigned another engineer to answer any questions. The engineer in question was frowning as Seifer reached the part of the report pertaining to the damage.

Oneakka had been half tempted to go down and help with the repair work himself, but he had never really enjoyed working in space-safe suits outside the ship. Perhaps he would look at the inner repair work though.

Movement on Seifer's other side drew Oneakka's attention. Teyla was stood at the corner of the tactical station, listening closely to Seifer's report and just behind her left shoulder stood Sheppard, and beside him Lieutenant Ford. Apparently Sheppard had marched into Central Station during the initial alert, demanding to be part of the action. It didn't surprise Oneakka as Sheppard was not one to wait on the sidelines of things. Apparently he had been useful though, having been the one to spot the strange sudden arrival of the new Seed ship above the moon base on the Arkinian feeds.

Oneakka dropped his attention back to the screen in front of him and called up the latest on the readings on that sudden appearance, and on a similar sudden location jump that had allowed the Seed ship to arrive abruptly behind the Sythus during the battle.

The readings had not yet been satisfactorily analysed.

"...Ru's latest update indicates we should be underway in less than three hours from now," Seifer concluded to his report.

"What is the latest on the Seed ship's arrival and jump in behind us?" Oneakka asked into the useful sudden pause.

"We are having to unpick the analysis," the lead technician stood next to the engineer reported, her expression showing her dissatisfaction. "There was, and remains, considerable radiation in the region from the Cruiser's detonated engine. It makes it very difficult to cleanly pick out the readings of the ship's jump in behind us during the battle. Fortunately, we do have the readings from the ship's initial arrival over the Arkinian moon to assist us."

"The readings looks similar to Portal use," Oneakka pointed out the obvious.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," she replied. All eyes around the table were moving between her and Oneakka as everyone listened in intently. "And close to hyperspace technology. Clearly the ship employed subspace in some way to achieve its jump in location, but as yet it is unclear. The readings from the Seed ship are conflicting as well, the engine, weapons signatures, and its self-destruct obscuring the readings that could be from the jump drive in question. We need time to unpick everything and find the anomalous readings that may represent the drive responsible."

"What about any trace evidence from the impact with the Sythus?" Oneakka asked next.

"Nothing obvious has been discovered," the engineer replied this time, his face clearly nervous at the cross examination. But, then that was why Ru had sent the man up here. "Everything has been sent for thorough analysis."

"Nothing has yet been reported through," Halling announced from a screen that displayed the latest in the reports from the busy crew in the rest of the ship. "Ru and his people know what to look for," Halling added, playing his usual role of supportive manager.

"We will leave for Lantana as soon as Ru says we are safe to travel," Seifer stated.

"Agreed, but we need to spread the details of this new Seed ship within the Fleet," Teyla put in, Sheppard nodding along behind her. No doubt the intell would be useful for Atlantis.

"Has Atlantis seen anything like this?" Oneakka asked Sheppard, though he was almost certain the man would have spoken up before now if he knew anything.

Sheppard started for a second, as if surprised someone was addressing him directly, but he recovered quickly. "Nothing like this," he replied shaking his head and glancing at his Lieutenant for mutual confirmation. "I've _never_ seen them use metal hull plating before," Sheppard frowned. "Have you?"

"Never," Teyla answered him, though not looking round at her husband.

"Maybe they're learning from us, and you," the younger Lieutenant put in from Sheppard's side.

"Perhaps," Teyla considered.

"Looks like the new plating was grown out from the organic hull," Oneakka considered in case everyone hadn't studied all the data as he had. He tapped the display of the Seed ship, spreading the image of the strange upper hull over more screens for everyone to see. "Organically bonded, making it stronger."

"Strong enough to open up the underside of ships," Sheppard muttered distastefully. Oneakka suspected Sheppard was worrying over the thought of the Wraith attacking his own people's ships in such a way. Although, reports stated that the main Earth vessel had energy shielding. Oneakka wondered if such technology would be open to trade now there was a contract between Atlantis and the Elite.

"We have not seen such behaviour as this before," Nalla put in from her place across the table, stood directly opposite Oneakka. In the subdued lighting of this part of Central Station, her purple skin seemed darker and more mysterious. He had always thought as much, but today he found himself simply happy that all the Sythus Elite crew were back together again. Their family was back together, with the obvious exception of Kari. However, the upcoming victory over the Wraith's Nest would be in her name in Oneakka's mind.

"The new ship could only have held a small crew, perhaps only one or two Wraith," Si put in, "Otherwise Emmagan and I would have detected a greater number."

"Did you glimpse anything from them?" Nalla asked Si, her head angling up towards his tall height.

"Nothing," Si reported with a glance over at Teyla, who shook her head, confirming the same. It was not unusual for Seekers not to pick up small numbers of Wraith across the vast emptiness of space.

"I agree with Si," Teyla stated, "There was a minimal crew, likely deep within the ship, or we would have sensed them."

"Analysis of the debris field may tell us determine how many," Halling considered.

"It is difficult to separate damaged Wraith cells from their ships in debris fields, we will only know if we can find enough surviving tissues to test," Nalla reminded them. "It is possible we will not know until another one of these ships appears and we can capture one intact. My question remains though as to why start using these new ships on other Wraith and now in Alliance space."

"We are close to Lantana," Seifer considered. "Perhaps it was practise."

"There have been no reports of anything similar by the Fleet," Teyla reported.

"Maybe this was a prototype or the first of a new series of ships to be deployed," Seifer suggested.

"Then we will likely see them again soon," Nalla concluded and the others nodded.

"We still have no real conclusions on the Seed ship and the cruiser it destroyed," Seifer added.

"Which is concerning considering the Seed's ship ability to jump location," Teyla considered worriedly.

As Teyla finished speaking a figure appeared through the far doorway behind Seifer. Ru stepped into Central Station quietly, smiling faintly as all eyes turned to him.

Ru nodded with that mix of respectful confidence and slight nervousness that seemed typical of the Sythus' new Lead Engineer. "Honoured Elite," he dipped his head again. "I can report that the last repairs are underway. We will be able to enter hyperspace for certain within three hours."

"The damage?" Si asked.

"As suspected, it remains minimal," Ru confirmed. "The breaches were small thin cracks that only just broke through the hull. The outer, space side repairs are fully complete, we are simply sealing up the inner layers now. The lower hull has a few dents now, but nothing that will cause a problem. I suggest a dock visit sometime in the near future."

"I assume the breach sites have been triple checked," Oneakka asked.

"Of course," Ru replied with a respectful nod. "I have added extra layering to ensure the strength of the hull in those areas."

"Good, Ru," Si intoned.

"Any trace evidence?" Oneakka asked before attention drifted from the engineer.

"A few possible trace pieces have been collected," Ru reported. "Such damage creates a lot of ragged edges, so it is possible what we have taken for testing might be pieces of our own scraped hull, pieces from the previously attacked Wraith hull, or perhaps from the new ship itself. As per protocol, the damaged sections of the ship, and the trace evidence, have been thoroughly decontaminated to ensure no Wraith ship cells linger to take root. We will have to wait for full analysis on the trace pieces."

At least they had some possible evidence. Oneakka decided he would visit the lab later as well as the repair work. With the delay from the repairs they would not reach Lantana until the early hours of tomorrow, and even then it would be hours after that that they would reach the battle, so he would need something to distract him.

"The latest reports from Outer Lantana are through," Seifer added. Everyone's faces lowered to the screens. As they did, Oneakka caught a glimpse of Ru nodding with a smile towards Sheppard and Ford as he moved away from Seifer, stepping back now his report was complete.

Oneakka wasn't overly surprised at the bonds that might be forming. The training session this morning had shown that the "Strays" on the ship worked well together, and in fact appeared to be bonding. Oneakka had already noticed that Seeal, Madesh, and Nevaeh were working well together – which usually showed itself in banter and unimportant discussions while they were supposed to be working. However, that said, some crew bonding would be good for the somewhat isolated Lead Engineer. Ru was moving quietly around behind the techs, looking for a place to stand and listen in to the meeting.

"...as hoped, more are gathering in the Nest System."

"The Fleet are still allowing a reasonable percentage of damaged Wraith ships to leave?" Nalla asked.

"Yes," Seifer reported. "Though there has been something of a disagreement between a few of the ship commanders on how many Wraith to allow to leave. As expected, the Satedan commanders are less than enthusiastic to comply."

"It is a shame Ronon is not out there to help," Halling muttered quietly beside Oneakka.

"You think he wouldn't argue?" Oneakka asked back doubtfully.

"He would at least listen to us," Halling replied, and Oneakka had to agree that perhaps the Satedan warrior would, but only on his own terms.

Oneakka became aware of some movement behind him and Halling. It was subtle and probably only the movement of people shifting their stance, but it caught at his attention.

"Hi," a voice whispered quietly from behind Oneakka. He knew it certainly wasn't directed towards him, but he found his attention latching onto what was clearly Ru's voice. Why had the Lead Engineer made his way this far around the table? The techs and his assigned engineer were stood closer to Seifer.

"Hi," Seeal replied quietly to Ru, from behind Oneakka's right shoulder. She had used a distracted tone, probably because she was listening to the meeting, as Ru should be doing.

"Did I miss anything important?" Ru whispered softly, the sound only just loud enough for Oneakka to catch behind him.

"Just the usual, with the Elite missing the obvious," Seeal replied in a slightly louder whisper, which Oneakka suspected was intended to be overheard by him.

"_Honoured_ Elite," Ru corrected her. "You'll only upset Madesh."

Oneakka heard a soft out breath behind his shoulder which sounded like Seeal had laughed slightly at that, and he heard subtle movements, perhaps the two of them looking in the direction of Madesh who was stood behind Oneakka's other shoulder.

"Pay attention," Madesh whispered to them wisely.

"You _have_ upset him now," Ru whispered.

"It doesn't take much," Seeal replied.

The banter was quiet, so quiet that the rest of the room wouldn't hear it, but it seemed loud and unavoidable to Oneakka's ears.

"Are you guys going to Late Meal later?" Ru asked.

"You're actually going to eat a meal when you're supposed to?" Seeal asked softly.

"Tyoosi' been watching me again," Ru replied just audibly.

"...which means that the attack we are planning should be able to proceed as planned," Seifer said loudly, dominating Oneakka's focus and he missed the rest of the whispered conversation behind him.

"In good time. The Fleet's losses must not outweigh the positives to this plan," Nalla worried.

"The loss of life has been minimal," Seifer replied. "But, we all agree with you."

"...once the last of the repairs are complete I will join you in the canteen," Ru whispered from somewhere behind Oneakka.

"If you want," Seeal replied, her tone distracted again.

"Shhh," Madesh added more constructively.

Oneakka waited, but Ru said nothing more, apparently listening to Madesh and actually paying attention to the briefing.

The urge to look round at them was almost overwhelming, but Oneakka suppressed it. It was unnecessary; they were quiet now and behaving themselves.

It didn't matter where Ru was stood, whether he had pressed himself in close between Seeal and Madesh. It didn't matter.

The Strays were bonding and of course would likely eat their meals together.

"...Nest System," Emmagan said and Oneakka realised his focus had slipped again.

"The commanders will meet with us on our arrival," Seifer replied, fortunately bringing Oneakka up to speed quickly.

"Are the probe's scans still coming in as expected?" Si asked as he tapped away on a display screen, seeking out the information.

"Yes," Nalla replied. "But, we will obviously not know viability until the final strike."

Oneakka glanced across the table at a small movement, seeing Sheppard and his Lieutenant whispering to each other behind Teyla's shoulder. Oneakka would be surprised if the Lantean men had worked out what the Elite had planned for the Wraith's Nest System, but Sheppard in particular was smart, and would know something significant was about to happen. Perhaps Teyla had told him, though looking at Teyla now, Oneakka still saw the signs that told him she was still not comfortable in her new husband's presence. However, Sheppard looked relaxed enough at her shoulder, taking a clear interest and no doubt eagerly gathering interesting intell for his own people.

"I suggest then that we reconvene tomorrow morning for our usual briefing," Halling suggested, bringing the overly long meeting towards a conclusion finally.

"Excuse me," a voice cut in, "I have a question."

Oneakka was surprised that she had kept quiet this long.

"What a surprise," he muttered as he looked to his immediate right where Seeal was attempting to push in between his and Halling's shoulders. Oneakka held still, but Halling gave her a little space.

"It's a good question actually," Seeal added to him as she squeezed her warm fabric-covered shoulder in against his bare one and turned to the rest of the table. "Why did the new Wraith ship explode?"

There was the faintest of pauses at what appeared to be foolish question, however, she had voiced something that had been niggling at Oneakka's own thoughts.

"Wraith do that when outmatched or when hoping to conceal information from us," Seifer replied to Seeal with a tone that would be used with a child.

"Well," Seeal replied, having gotten both her shoulders uncomfortably wedged in beside Oneakka, "excuse me for saying this, but it didn't exactly seem outclassed to me. As far as you know it's already gutted at least two large Wraith ships, and it had already taken a chunk out of your hull-"

"A few scratches," Seifer amended.

"And looks like it was hardly damaged," Seeal continued, ignoring the interruption. "Why blow up? Why not come back and make a better run at us? Surely the chance of destroying one of the Elite's flagships would have been a high priority for them."

"Perhaps the ship, if a prototype," Teyla replied, "was too valuable to risk capture by us. The ship attacked us only to gain a moment to damage us and unsuccessful it self-destructed."

"Then why not destruct when actually under your ship?" Seeal argued. "That would have caused far greater damage, taking the Sythus out with the prototype."

It was a valid point.

"The Sythus has been scanned for Wraith?" Halling asked towards Nalla and Teyla.

"No Wraith transported onboard before the self-destruct," Nalla confirmed and Teyla nodded, Si as well.

"Perhaps we should run a full, floor by floor visual inspection, just to be sure," Halling suggested.

"Si and I can do that," Teyla agreed. "However, both the ship's scanners and the two of us would detect even a hibernating Wraith."

"However, to be sure, we will check," Si confirmed. The Seekers would walk the ship to be sure, but Oneakka trusted their senses already. No Wraith would be found on the Sythus.

"Then it doesn't make sense," Seeal insisted again.

"To a Wraith mind it does," Halling offered to her. "Damage us and then trigger the destruct. We had been angling up and away from the ship, distanced ourselves rapidly, if we had been closer, we might have sustained damage from the explosion."

"From what I've seen of Wraith up close and personal," Seeal continued, not letting the matter drop, "they don't tend to let people go. They do a thorough job."

"In space battles, they are more hesitant," Halling informed her. "The transmission it sent out probably contained all that it had gathered and the Seed ship was no longer vitally needed. They had hoped to damage us, but we were manoeuvring away too quickly for it to be effective."

Oneakka looked at Seal squeezed in against his arm and saw her frown, unhappy with the conclusion.

"Still doesn't make sense," she muttered looking round at him. It occurred to him that he could give her more room, but he stayed where he was.

"That's assuming the Sythus was the focus of their attention," he told her. "Maybe it was the abandoned base."

"The one the Wraith ship crashed into?" She asked as she shifted in her tight space to face him, giving herself, him, and Halling more room finally.

"They chose this system for a reason," Oneakka replied.

"Not just because it is close to the big battle at Lantana?" Seeal considered. "Maybe there was something at the base they were after."

"Perhaps they have plenty of their new attack ships and one's loss was not important. Better to hide the new tech from us, and any intell on the tech or on the base, than risk a battle with us."

"What's so special about that old Wraith base then?" Seeal asked him, her dark eyes sparkling with curious interest. He had no doubt that if she were free and able, she would be heading down to that base to poke through all the evidence and find out for herself.

Oneakka shrugged as he pulled his attention from her down to the display screens to look at the base data.

"I have looked through the information on the base myself," Teyla put in. "It is a very old Wraith base, one of the oldest in our records – at least ten thousand years from the readings that have previously been taken of it."

"When we pushed them from this system they didn't put up a serious fight for it," Seifer added, looking through the information himself.

"We need to ensure that the research teams studying the crashed Wraith cruiser focus closely on the base beneath it as well," Teyla concluded.

"Maybe the Wraith purposefully crashed their ship onto the base," Seeal considered, echoing Oneakka's own thoughts.

"And there's the fact that the new Seed ship turned up out of nowhere above the base," Sheppard put in.

"Something's going on," Seeal muttered to herself as she looked at the screen Oneakka was scrolling through.

"Whatever the answers are to these questions," Si put in, "there is nothing that we can do about them now. We can only continue on to Lantana once we are safe to jump into hyperspace. Emmagan, Nalla, and I will walk the Sythus, ensuring no Wraith came aboard undetected. Otherwise, I recommend that we return to duties and meet again in the morning once we have arrived in Lantana."

"I agree," Teyla nodded.

Oneakka nodded, as did the others. He still had the rest of the evening to study all this data again, as well as anything new that might come in from the tech teams. The research teams might have arrived in Arkinian by that time as well.

The meeting broke up quickly, people moving away and heading for the exits.

Oneakka remained where he was though, looking over the screens.

"I will see you at Late Meal?" Halling asked from the right.

Oneakka glanced up at his friend and studied him for a moment. In the last day Halling had seemed distracted, his expression drawn and his eyes hollow. Something was clearly bothering him, but he obviously wasn't ready to discuss it yet. Oneakka considered pushing it, maybe over Late Meal, but at the same time he knew that Halling would speak his mind when he was ready. If it was important enough Halling would share.

"Yes, though I've got to check on the goat after the evening Bay shift," Oneakka replied.

Halling smiled as he left. "I shall meet you in the Hydroponics Bay in an hour then. Whether the goat will actually be in the Bay however..."

Oneakka had to faintly nod his agreement to that point. The goat was roaming where it liked, but so far hadn't caused any damage. He already knew that it sometimes bedded down in the Hot Water Regulation Chamber near Seeal. One morning Oneakka had even found it waiting outside his own quarters. He suspected the creature was simply learning its new territory, having likely decided that the entire ship was its own to wander. It did seem to have worked out that Seifer didn't like it – almost to the point of appearing around the goat-nervous warrior more than anyone else. Probably keeping an eye on the warrior.

"Honoured Elite," Madesh's voice arrived and Oneakka looked round to find the man waiting patiently where he had been stood throughout the briefing. "Do you want us to continue looking at the Wraith data or focus back on the Toshka database?"

Surprisingly, Seeal was stood close by as well, trying not to appear like she cared, but she was clearly waiting for his answer too. Ru was annoyingly close as well, though was talking with Tyoosi.

"Work on the Wraith data first," Oneakka ordered, "after Late Meal, then you're on Tyoosi' clock tomorrow." Oneakka noticed that Ru had glanced round at Seeal, even while he was in discussion with Tyoosi.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Madesh smiled at receiving his orders and moved away.

Seeal remained for a second though, looking past Oneakka's side to the tactical displays. "It still doesn't make sense," she repeated once more about the Seed ship as her dark eyes looked back up at him. Her frown was more annoyed than confused now, as if she disapproved of the illogical behaviour of the Wraith.

She was right that the explosion had been oddly timed, but it was not unusual in a space battle for the Wraith ships to detonate and not take out other ships. Wraith could mistime matters just as easily as humans could.

He didn't voice that to her though, instead he just watched as she frowned once more at the screens and followed Madesh away around the tactical display table.

Oneakka turned back to the displays, noticing that Sheppard and Ford were waiting for Madesh and Seeal in the far doorway. The four of them were probably heading off to Late Meal together. Or rather, make that five of them, for Ru was now scurrying towards them, his discussion with Tyoosi over.

Sheppard looked round, noticing Oneakka's attention and nodded politely. Oneakka returned the nod faintly, and then watched as Sheppard's attention slid away to Teyla who was now talking with Tyoosi. A faint worried frown cast over Sheppard's features for a moment and then he was turning away, heading out of Central Station with his fellow Strays.

And at the back of their group, Ru was in deep discussion with Seeal as they headed out of Central Station.

0000000

The atmosphere on the Sythus had subtly changed this evening. The canteen had been quieter, people moving through for their food with a quickness and focus on work discussions that John knew well enough. Not only had the Sythus been attacked, which probably wasn't all that new, but they were on the verge of a big battle. That knowledge tended to focus everyone.

Having been sat in the canteen for hours now, he had watched as everyone had appeared focused on their food while sharing details they had been involved with regarding the new "Seed" Wraith ship. John thought it looked more like an egg than a seed, but "Egg Ship" had just too much of Mork vibe to be taken seriously, so he was sticking with "Seed Ship" for now. He was almost certain that the Daedalus and Jumpers would be better protected than the Elite ship from being rammed like that, but any new tech or strategy of the Wraith was worrying. Plus the metal hull plating was very new for the Wraith. What else were they up to? First there had been the messing with the Alliance drug Quantum, then the new stunning tech that thankfully hadn't been seen since, and now brand new types of ships – it was worrying. No one wanted inventive Wraith around.

Of course he was aware that his own level of anxiety was also due to the fact that he was feeling very much removed from the action. Even though he and Ford had been in on the battle up in Central Station, Tyoosi' following mini lecture on "respecting rules and regulations of your allies" had made it clear to John that he wasn't going to be able to play a repeat performance of sneaking into Central Station again.

The prospect of having to sit completely on the sidelines wasn't sitting well in his gut, and the plan to just sit in Teyla's quarters or in here, the ship's main canteen, made him feel smothered. He was supposed to just sit and wait, feel the Sythus banking and shuddering in a battle, but not know what the hell was going on? That wasn't going to fly, but he hadn't worked out what the hell he could do about it yet.

He suspected that the only way to change it was to talk to Teyla, but after her small smile earlier, she had barely looked at him again up in Central Station. Sure she was working and there was a lot to get done, and the whole meeting to deal with, but she hadn't even made eye contact with him again. He got the impression that she had let down her shields a bit and now was hurriedly forcing them back up into place.

Or she was simply focused on her work, which was vitally important, and he was just feeling left out. As he did right now, still sat in the canteen with some of the other Strays, their meal finished, and his third cup of Athosian tea cooling in front of him.

Was this how life was going to be now on the Sythus? Awkward tension with Teyla and completely out of the loop with the big battles? Even when he was the Daedalus he would have a received reports, been allowed on the Bridge...here he was just a 'guest'. He was here to fulfil the contract and not get under anyone's feet, particularly Teyla's, just hoping for the promise of another smile from her.

His future visiting with the Alliance wasn't looking so hopeful anymore, and he was feeling more than a little bit pathetic about how pleased he had been at one small smile.

Ford wasn't helping his mood right now either.

"...pointed nose, or stubby one, I can't quite remember," Ford blathered on to John's right as he sketched a vague outline on an electronic pad for Nevaeh.

"Your world is _fascinating_," the young woman replied with a bright smile at Ford.

John wasn't sure how describing a dolphin was so fascinating, but it seemed to be working for Ford. In fact, he hadn't shut up about Earth since they'd all sat down to eat in the Sythus' canteen.

"It's a beautiful planet," Ford gushed on. "I'm sure there are plenty of pretty planets here too, I'm sure yours in particular."

John couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes at that one, to find himself meeting Madesh's eyes directly across the table from him. Madesh pulled a face that confirmed to John that he wasn't the only one near vomiting from the sickly flirtation going on next to him.

Of course that feeling had nothing to do with John's own current romantic issues. Or complete lack thereof now. Maybe the cliché that once you were married the sex stops was just a little too accurate.

He looked away from Ford and Nevaeh only to see another sad display on his other side.

On John's left, Seeal was focused intently down on the mass of electronic pads that she had been obsessing over for hours. Across from her, Ru, the ship's Chief Engineer, was giving her all his attention. Attention slick with obvious longing.

"...did they scan all the surfaces?" Seeal was asking the rapt engineer. John wondered if the guy was supposed to be on duty somewhere. The guy had appeared a short while ago, reporting that the Sythus was back in hyperspace. Shouldn't he be monitoring things?

"Everything," Ru promised her. "It is protocol. Wraith material has previously invaded Alliance ships and caused mass damage."

That caught John's attention. "How?"

"Their technology is mostly organic and can regrow, which it sometimes tries to do on another ship," Ru answered. "It takes a special part of the organic technology, essentially a seed, which can attach itself to living matter and assimilate it."

"Ahh, Borg," John joked lamely as he lifted his tea.

Ru frowned, "Borg?"

"Nothing," John replied as he swallowed a mouthful of the sweet Athosian drink. He wished he didn't prefer the Athosian tea over all the other drinks in the canteen. "Just an Earth joke."

Ru frowned in a way that questioned why John was making jokes right now, but his attention swiftly returned to Seeal, the guy's eyes turning all puppy dog. God, it was sickening.

"What about these readings?" Seeal asked, her attention solely focused on her obsessive studying of the readings from the weird new Wraith Seed ship. She seemed completely oblivious to Ru's interest, which made it all the more sad to watch.

Ru leant forward to see the pad she was indicating. "The Sythus' engine output was briefly interrupted in the moment of impact, it is a standard safety system," he explained.

"Why do you have readouts of the ship's main systems?" Madesh interjected looking at Seeal's pad.

"Because it doesn't make sense," Seeal argued at Madesh, not answering his question. John was pretty sure that some of the pads had come in with Ru.

"As you have been muttering obsessively for hours now," Madesh replied.

"Rain Man," John muttered as he set his cup down onto the smooth military style tabletop. Maybe he should bring some DVDs with him next time, start educating the Elite crew on some Earth popular culture, because his jokes were completely wasted here.

"The entire ship has been scanned, repeatedly," Madesh pushed. "The Honoured Seeker Elite are even walking the ship to ensure no Wraith came onboard. There are no readings to suggest any transporting aboard, and all the areas where the ship impacted have been thoroughly sterilised. The crew and the Honoured Elite know what they are doing."

"We know that ship had no difficulty in gutting at least two other ships, and it just barely scratched this one?" Seeal asked. "No one would attack that way and then blow up their ship without doing something else. Like planting a bomb on the ship," Seeal reasoned.

John kind of agreed with her, but they hadn't found anything.

"The Seed ship is a new design," Ford put in, apparently having pulled his soppy attention off Nevaeh long enough to listen in. "Maybe the ship was damaged in ways we couldn't detect."

Seeal frowned. "If your ship is going down, you take the enemy with you."

It was a brutal but true sentiment, and one the Wraith had demonstrated enough in John's experience.

"Maybe they didn't mean to trigger the self-destruct," John considered offhandedly. "Maybe they were planning to come back around for another attack."

She let out a heavy breath, which suggested she was starting to accept the facts.

"And they haven't found anything," John added. "As Madesh said, the Elite know what they're doing when it comes to the Wraith. No one knows the Wraith like them." Madesh nodded across from John.

"Have they finished the latest computer scans?" Seeal asked as she put down her pad and fished another out of the pile in front of her.

"The computer scans have all been negative," Ru replied. "We included the algorithms that you suggested in the last two scans. The computers are clear, no virus was transmitted. We would have detected any such transmission."

"What about these readings?" Seeal asked Ru as she picked up a further pad, showing him several lines on the display.

"There were tiny power drains just after the impact because small conduits were damaged, but the ship compensated within two seconds," Ru replied as he gently tapped the pad she held. "See here, all systems were disturbed, but only briefly."

"You've checked the engine?" Seeal asked.

Madesh sighed heavily and sat back in his chair, rolling his head to relieve either an aching neck or upper back. "The impact had no chance in reaching the engine."

Ru nodded more patiently with her. "The engine is deeper in the ship, there are layers of girders, crumple zones, and even the water pipes that gather the heat from around the engine would be damaged first."

"There was a drop in water pressure," Seeal somehow recalled as she tapped through the latest pad's readout.

"There was a tiny breach in an outer water pipe near the impact zone, created by the wave of impact. It was a tiny breach that was patched up quickly. The water pressure is back to normal limits. Nothing made it onto this ship, Seeal. Your concern for this ship is commendable," Ru told her.

John almost smiled at that compliment as he glanced to Seeal.

"It still seems a ridiculous waste of a ship," she stated as she sat back, letting go of the pad that Ru had held with her. She either hadn't heard Ru's compliment or didn't care about it.

John regarded the woman next to him. She had pushed her way into the meeting on the Sythus' bridge earlier, literally forcing her way between Halling and Oneakka at the display table so that she could say what she wanted to say. She hadn't seemed intimidated by the Elite, but then she had worked on Dreamstation, and somehow she had gotten her way onto this ship despite her history and not really belonging here.

Kind of like him.

"Wraith can be idiots too," John theorised.

Seeal focused her dark eyes on him, her gaze almost aggressive in its penetrative directness. "You think a Wraith over there leant on the self-destruct button by accident?" She asked with an actual smile.

"It could happen," John replied with a half shrug, his cup in his hand.

Seeal frowned again, but the smile was still there.

"Either way," John continued, "there's nothing else we can do to help." He took another sip of his Athosian tea.

Seeal's eyes slid back to him like he'd said something significant. Maybe she too had issues with being a sideliner in the Elite drama going on around them.

"Maybe some of these new ships will appear in the Outer Lantana battle," Madesh considered. "It may give us a chance to scan them again, perhaps study one after the battle is won."

John studied the thick shouldered guy who had also found his way onto this ship despite his own petty criminal history. The Elite crew was right that they were a right bunch of strays.

"You're pretty sure the Elite will win," John asked with as careful tone as he could. The rest of the canteen was empty, with the exception of one man eating his late dinner and reading from a pad. Beyond him a crew member was cleaning the buffet table, and one of John and Ford's newly re-established guards was sat quietly at the door, appearing lost in his own thoughts.

"They will be victorious. They always are," Madesh replied with a faith that bordered on religious.

"Because they're Elite?" Seeal asked from John's left.

"Yes," Madesh replied firmly.

"Like Iketani was?" Seeal challenged.

Madesh frowned darkly. "She was different."

"Wasn't there another Elite warrior who worked for her?" Seeal pushed. "She killed him if I remember correctly. _Very_ honourable."

"Do _you_ want to talk about honour?" Madesh retaliated, though there didn't seem any real anger or aggression behind the question.

"Do _you_?" Seeal fought back, this time with a smile. The verbal one-upmanship kind of reminded John of someone else.

He leant slightly towards Ford. "We've got to get her and Rodney in the same room, see who wins."

Ford grinned.

Movement in the canteen's doorway heralded one of The Cue's from this morning. The woman exchanged a brief word with the current bored looking guard and then looked at John across the quiet canteen. "Major Sheppard," she called. "Honoured Elite Emmagan wishes to speak with you."

John hated the instant burst of excitement, his former sullen mood attempting to evaporate in the news that Teyla wanted to talk to him. He crushed the excitement aside though, holding onto the sullenness like a blanket around him with which he hoped to stop himself becoming as blinded by infatuation as both Ford and Ru had displayed beside him.

"Sure," John replied, hopefully casually, and rose from his seat. "You okay here, Lieutenant?" John asked Ford, which was stupid because clearly the kid was _very_ happy where he was.

"I'm good, Major," Ford replied, his casualness not as smooth as John's. As John moved around the end of the table he gave Ford a knowing look.

Ford looked faintly embarrassed, which brought back some of John's more usual amusement at the kid's situation. Nevaeh for her part seemed as interested in the kid as he was in her. For a moment John wondered if, as the superior officer in their two part team, he should be concerned. He should probably give the kid a lecture about not getting involved with Nevaeh and that Ford needed to focus on their mission, but that would be beyond hypocritical of him. He'd just have to keep an eye on things.

"Numfar said he would come by and collect me later," Ford added, his tone of forced professionalism somewhat ruined by "to take me to bed – I mean to the barracks for the night." Cringing for the kid, John made sure to simply nod and focus on not grinning until he was out of the canteen, because no one needed to be shown up in front of a lady they liked. Well, except maybe Rodney.

Another rush of homesickness passed over John as he followed the Cue guard through the Sythus' quiet evening lit corridors. Rodney and Carson would be heading out on their fishing trip tomorrow, if it wasn't already tomorrow in Atlantis. Frowning, John realised he had forgotten to work out the time difference again.

It was only once John found himself outside Teyla's door that he realised the guard at brought him to Teyla's quarters. He had expected Teyla to be on duty somewhere, or still walking her way round the ship to check there weren't any Wraith snoozing somewhere out of sight.

The guard triggered the bell, or whatever the Elite called it, and the woman smiled at him briefly before turning away. Teyla's door slid open a second later to reveal her sword laden back walking away from him.

"...he is here now," she said off to the left.

John stepped through the doorway to see Torren displayed on the large wall screen set on the wall alongside the door. Ketra abruptly shoved herself against John's thigh, demanding his attention. He stroked a hand over her head as he quickly steadied himself. "Leader Torren," he greeted his new Father-in-law.

"John, it is good to see you looking well," Torren replied with a smile. John wondered for a second if Torren had thought Teyla might have killed him.

"How's things back on Athos?" John asked, forcing casualness on the situation as best he could.

"The weather so far today has been very pleasant, thank you," Torren answered immediately. "Most of the wedding guests have now departed Athos, though Charin and Elkaska plan to remain for awhile. They both hope to be present during your next visit to Athos, John. To greet you properly into our family."

John smiled, acutely aware of Teyla stood off to his right, her backside against the end of the couch still in its original position. John wondered if Torren could see the spare bed set in place of the other couch.

Ketra nuzzled at John's hand, asking for attention again so he idly stroked his fingers over the dragon's warm head as he tried to smile sincerely at Torren.

"That would be great," John replied. Would Torren have told the rest of Teyla's family about the argument he had witnessed?

Torren smiled on the screen, and in that split second beat John got the feeling that Teyla's father had seen right through him and was finding all of this funny. John's back bristled a little at that, but he tried to ignore the reaction. Torren was an important political figure, not someone you demanded explain what they meant by a comment.

"Mr Woolsey is currently with us," Torren continued without a beat as he looked off to his right. John heard movement and soft voice and Woolsey stepped into view alongside Torren.

"Major Sheppard," Woolsey smiled, his dark suit and glasses starkly different next to Torren's golden skin and deep red and gold jacket.

"Mr Woolsey," John replied – great, because this was uncomfortable enough.

"You are being well taken care of?" Woolsey asked, like John was a dog staying over in kennels for a few nights.

"The Elite are very good hosts," John answered, thinking that covered the basics.

"Good," Woolsey replied with a nod – an approving owner.

"We have managed to clarify and draft most of the additional details of the Marriage Contract," Torren put in with a smile towards Woolsey that John thought looked a little strained.

"Indeed, there are a few details that need to be confirmed with Atlantis and with the Elite," Woolsey agreed.

"I will prepare a report on the issues and questions to be resolved and send them to you, Honoured Daughter – for once the approaching battle has been won," Torren added.

John looked at Teyla, properly for the first time since entering. She sensed his attention and glanced at him, her expression guarded, but she wasn't in Elite mode. Her eyes returned to the screen quickly, so John did too.

"Okay," he replied to the two politicians. This wasn't awkward at all.

"The details mainly centre around what can be shared between the Elite and Atlantis, and details pertaining to security during my Honoured Daughter's visits to Atlantis," Torren filled in the details.

John glanced at Teyla again.

He had guessed there might be some issues in that area – most of them probably centring around Colonel Sumner. He guessed the Elite might have issues as well with Teyla being away, alone in Wraith held territory. They wouldn't want to lose one of their top warriors to a trip away from home.

He studied her expression as subtly as possible, looking for clues as to how she felt about these "details". He couldn't see anything all that helpful. She looked in control, but relaxed enough. But then she was talking with her Dad, around which she had always seemed relaxed. John envied her in that moment, wishing he had such a close relationship with his own father. He had spoken to Dad in years.

"...will all be arranged safely," Woolsey was saying and John quickly tuned back into the important conversation about his future.

"I will leave you, Mr Woolsey, to speak with John privately," Torren said with a smile and Woolsey smiled back.

Torren stepped out of view and Woolsey moved into the centre of the screen, his gaze watching off in the direction Torren had disappeared.

"I will leave you to talk," Teyla said as she pushed away from the end of the couch.

"You don't have to leave," John told her quietly as she passed by him, hoping it didn't carry to Woolsey. "I can take the call somewhere else." It didn't feel right chasing her out of her own quarters.

"I am due to begin the night shift on Central Station," she replied though, pausing near the door, turning to face him.

"Oh," John replied, hoping he didn't sound disappointed.

"May I leave Ketra in here with you tonight?" She asked, her gaze dropping to Ketra who had followed her towards the door.

John glanced down at the dragon. "Sure," he replied immediately. She was going to leave him here by himself and leave Ketra in his care?

Despite all the issues, the fights, and the lack of anything relaxed between them other than a small smile, the fact that she trusted Ketra with him hit him like a splash of cold water.

She still trusted him.

He thought he had known that, despite their personal issues, but he knew without a doubt that she only left Ketra with those she most trusted. That she was happy to not only let him stay alone in her quarters, but to keep watch over her beloved pet, just melted something inside him.

Suddenly the obstacles and awkwardness didn't feel so massive anymore.

He watched as she leant down towards Ketra, softly stroking Ketra's cheeks and snout. "Ketra, you need to stay here. John will take good care of you."

This wasn't Emmagan the Honoured Elite or Political Wife, this was Teyla again. The woman he knew and adored. He had almost thought he might never see this side of her again.

"We shall be reaching Lantana tomorrow," Teyla told him now. "And it will still be some hours after until we reach the battle, so best be ready when Numfar comes by to collect you for First Meal," she instructed him.

"Right," He nodded. "Should I leave Ketra in here tomorrow?" He asked, not sure what the protocol should be with Ketra's care. "Or I could drop her of in the Hydroponics Bay."

Teyla smiled slightly. "You can leave her in here for I shall be back in the morning after you will have left."

"Okay," John agreed smiling at her.

She blinked and looked away, back down to Ketra. He watched as she stroked Ketra's head once more. "Stay with John, Ketra," she instructed softly as she triggered open the door.

She stepped out with another quick slight smile directed towards him, and then the door slid shut, leaving him and Ketra in here alone.

Ketra looked up at the closed door and shook her head, her long neck spines rustling together almost sadly.

"She'll be back tomorrow, Ketra," John assured the dragon.

Woolsey cleared his throat less than subtly from the screen.

John made sure not to roll his eyes as he returned his attention to the suited man.

"I'm glad to see you're in one piece, Major," Woolsey began, clearly alone at his end as John was at his now - with the exception of Ketra, who was still staring up at the closed door forlornly.

"All in one piece," John repeated back the obvious.

"Colonels Carter and Sumner have been concerned about your safety."

"Colonel Sumner? Really?" John asked.

Woolsey lifted a rebuking eyebrow. "I trust you really are being looked after properly."

"Getting all my meals and walked twice a day," John replied pointedly.

He got another disapproving Woolsey frown for that one.

"This is a serious matter, Major."

John rubbed a hand against an eyebrow as he took Teyla's former place leant back against the end of the couch opposite the large screen. "Yeah, you don't have to remind me of that, we're heading into a massive space battle tomorrow and we've already been attacked by a new type of Wraith ship."

Concern creased Woolsey's face. "Attacked by a new Wraith ship?"

"Weird looking thing," John reported. "The Elite haven't seen anything like it either. It's small, but larger than a dart, and kind of shaped like an egg. The upper hull has metal plating and a ridge at the top, which it used to ram into the underside of other ships."

"Ram?" Woolsey asked worriedly, pausing in his rapid scribbles into the notebook he sometimes used during his visits to Athos. John wasn't sure how Woolsey decided when to write on the electronic Alliance pad and when he used his notebook. John guessed the notebook might be harder for those in the Alliance to read – or maybe Woolsey knew shorthand.

"Tell the Colonels to look out of anymore of these ships. Be warned that they use some new drive as well, lets them jump large distances in an instant. Can you also ask Colonel Carter and McKay to look through the Ancient database, see if they can find any reference to this kind of ship, especially anything about the Wraith using metal plated armoured hulls."

Woolsey scribbled some more, frowning intently. "Granted I am no expert, Major, but I wasn't aware that the Wraith used metal plating for their ships."

"They don't, or didn't used to," John replied as Ketra padded towards him, the dragon glancing back at the closed door, presumably just in case Teyla might reappear. She sat down by John's leg with what was almost a sigh. He stroked her head absently. "There might be something in the Ancient database, or some passing reports that might have mentioned seeing something like it."

The Elite guessed the Seed ship was something new, but there was also the chance that it was some old tech that they had dug up from that old moon base. If it was older tech, then maybe the Ancients had seen it before, or knew about how the Wraith could incorporate metal plating in their ships.

"I will ask them as soon as I return," Woolsey promised as he lowered his notepad out of view. "I don't suspect you'll know how long the Sythus will be in the battle zone."

"No idea," John replied. He had every belief that the Sythus could take more than its own share of knocks, and had probably seen more space battles against the Wraith in a year than the Daedalus and Apollo had combined, but it sounded like this Lantana battle was going to be big. There was some big plan ahead and John had no doubt that whatever it was going to be, that the Sythus was going to be front and centre in the middle of it. Which meant he would be too. That he wouldn't know what the hell was going on annoyed him though. If he was going to be in this fight, he'd prefer to be playing an active role in it, not wandering around the Hydroponics Bay or hiding away in here.

"Try to be careful, Major," Woolsey's voice drew John's focus back on point.

"I didn't know you cared," John joked.

"You are a very valuable asset, Major."

"Especially now I'm married to one of the top Elite," John interrupted a little bitterly.

"As you so rightly stated yourself," Woolsey replied, "this contract has the potential to do a great deal for Atlantis, and you are responsible for that. You are an important political figure now for the Alliance, Atlantis, and for Earth."

That didn't make the situation feel any more stressful at all!

"I just made a small decision for Atlantis," John explained.

"History has taught us that sometimes it is the seemingly small decisions that can change nations and, as we know, entire planets." It was a little odd to be getting an actual pep talk from Woolsey – normally he was all with the lectures and telling John what not to do.

Feeling a little uncomfortable with the weight of all that, John just shrugged dismissively and focused on Ketra sat next to him. "I'll do the best I can. Have you heard back from the IOA yet?"

"They had responded this morning that they had received our reports, and that the issue would go before the IOA today," Woolsey replied. "I suspect it may take a day or so for them to reply."

John nodded, the information not all that satisfying, but hardly surprising given how long it took the IOA to decide on anything. Hopefully he might get back to Atlantis with useful and interesting intell by the time the final IOA response came in.

"Colonel Carter is planning a visit to Athos herself," Woolsey continued, "and Torren has offered to facilitate another call to you."

"If you can raise us in the middle of a fight," John pointed out.

"The Colonel is not planning to visit for another day or so, especially as tomorrow is the city's mandatory rest day," Woolsey reminded him.

John grinned. "Be sure to wish McKay a happy fishing trip for me."

John had bowed out of the planned fishing some time ago when Carson had first started planning the trip, mainly because John had intended to spend some time on the City's makeshift driving range, but also because he already spent plenty of time with Rodney. Stuck fishing with the guy on the mainland, the scientist probably hating the whole experience, wasn't John's idea of how to spend a rest day off work.

"I will do," Woolsey replied not understanding the humorous depth to the knowledge that Rodney was going fishing. "I will be returning to the City later this afternoon, but wanted to make sure you were well."

"I'm fine," John assured him again.

"Good luck for tomorrow and I hope to see you very soon," Woolsey replied, sounding honestly concerned for John.

"Just another day at the office," John joked, because, truthfully, facing off against the Wraith on some excessively dangerous mission wasn't exactly new territory for him.

Woolsey gave him a strained smile. "Good luck, Major," he repeated and reached forward to something to the side of the screen and the image went dark.

John wasn't sure if he should terminate the call at his end as well. He'd seen Teyla work these types of screens before, but hadn't really taken in the details. However, the decision was quickly mute because the screen reset to its equivalent of a desktop.

He frowned at the Alliance writing scrolling down the screen. He could recognise a few symbols, but it was mostly gobbledygook to him. He really was going to have to learn the Alliance standard language. Tyoosi had said there was a basic translation training programme on the pad he'd been given, but John hadn't looked at it yet. The Alliance computers used on Athos appeared to have taken English onboard pretty easily, with only minor mistakes here and there. McKay had theorised that was because of the Latin base to English, which was essentially the language of the Ancients. It implied that the Alliance language might share some basic building blocks with the Ancients' Latin. Though, John hadn't really done all that well at Latin at school.

Maybe he could ask Madesh to help him learn Alliance, since the guy was friendly. Numfar didn't look like he had enough time to do something so long term, but if Madesh was going to be staying on the Sythus then maybe John would have someone to build a working friendship with on the ship. Maybe even Seeal if she stayed on the ship.

The wall screen abruptly went dark except for that one tiny faint power light he remembered from last night. Out of interest, John lightly touched the faint light and the screen came back to life for him, the lists scrolling down once again. He touched the light once more and the screen went dark again. Great, that was one thing he could control. In Teyla's quarters he could command the light switches, turn on the shower and facets, and now also turn the wall screen on and off. He was practically a fully fledged member of the crew!

Smiling wearily, he looked down at Ketra to find her looking up at him.

"You're not sleeping on the bed tonight," he told her as he stroked one of her ears, "but you can have the couch all to yourself. I won't tell anyone."

000000  
TBC


	32. New Relations

00000

**Chapter 32 – New Relations**

Torren watched as Mr Woolsey lifted a hand in farewell once more before he and his guards disappeared from view walking away from the Governing Buildings. Torren was getting used to the man, his style and attitude, yet added to the last few days events, Torren was starting to feel quite tired. It had been a long few days.

However, it was over for now. The contract was in place, the additional last details had been discussed, and Mr Woolsey would take the details to his superiors to report upon in two days time. Torren had already ensured that a full report of the outstanding details was being prepared for Teyla and the Elite. He would send it to her tomorrow, but for now, it was time for him to "call it a day", as Mr Woolsey had phrased it. Torren quite liked the turn of the phrase.

"Hakon," he called to his assistant, who, as always, was stood a few feet away behind his shoulder.

Hakon's presence drew closer, but Torren kept his gaze directed out across the beauty of Tjaru in the fading late afternoon sunlight.

"Please ensure the report for my honoured daughter is ready for transmission tomorrow," he ordered gently.

"Already in hand," Hakon replied. "Charin looked over the draft before she departed to visit her cousin."

Torren glanced round at Hakon. "Is she returning to the complex this evening?"

"She said she will return tomorrow, and that she hopes to sit with you."

"Now that the busy events of the last few days are over," Torren agreed. "How is my schedule for tomorrow?" He had not looked at it, too busy had he been.

"You have two meetings in the third quarter, but the first two are free," Hakon reported.

"Really?" Torren checked, surprised.

Hakon smiled softly. "I thought it best that you had some time for yourself and family."

"Thank you, Hakon," Torren smiled in return. "However, if anything is demanding I can be available the second quarter."

Hakon lowered his head to his computer tablet and tapped in the command. "Perhaps," he muttered quietly though.

Torren frowned at him with amusement, but made no comment. "Is there anything that requires my attention this evening?"

"Nothing, Torren," Hakon stated definitively.

"Thank you again, Hakon," Torren told him, knowing it would be the man's doing.

"Enough has been arranged these last few days," Hakon argued. "There have been more meetings and contracts signed in three days than in the previous three months. There is plenty of work to distract everyone."

"How about our own people's legal requirements?" He checked.

"All the latest statements, judgements, and legal documents are in process, there is nothing that requires your attention for at least two days in that regard."

Torren studied his assistant closely. "I suspect, Hakon, that some days it is you who runs Athos, not I."

Hakon straightened his back and looked him straight in the eye. "You are a great leader for our people, Torren. I am honoured to help as I can."

Torren held his gaze for a moment and smiled. "Since your very able assistance has allowed me not only a free evening, but a morning free tomorrow as well, I shall retire. I _expect_ you to do the same."

"Yes, Torren."

Torren smiled at the distracted comment. He patted Hakon on the shoulder as he passed him. "Get some sleep yourself, Hakon. You have worked most admirably these past days. I value you greatly."

Torren walked alone back into the complex, the lights lowered and candles in protective glass glowing along the corridors. The guards opened doors for him as he approached. He knew all of the guards by name and greeted them all, but it was with an air of distraction this evening that Torren identified as tiredness.

Yet, as he reached the crossroad of corridors he decided to visit his office for a short while. He might even sit out in his private courtyard for a while, and perhaps allow his thoughts to return to Tagan.

She would have been pleased with Teyla's choice of husband.

He opened the office door and entered the warm quiet place that was his work sanctuary. He was only a few feet inside the room when he realised he was not alone.

At the far end of the room, Elkaska was settled in one of the high-backed chairs, tea on the table beside him. Torren's brother by marriage looked up from a large book that he had been reading.

Torren had greatly appreciated Elkaska's presence these last few days. He had made the work so much easier with regard to trading contracts. Elkaska had taken on half the meetings himself, giving Torren more time to focus on the other half. Elkaska had visited him constantly throughout though, checking tiny details before the final contracts were agreed. Elkaska had even managed to insert Athos into contracts between others, gaining considerable wealth, links, and strengthening ties. He had been invaluable.

He and Elkaska had never quite meshed together in all the years they had known each other. Quite unalike, it had only been Tagan who had kept them connected, and without her, the link had continued through Zabetha and Teyla. Elkaska, the wanderer and trader that he was, adored his nieces. Torren knew that Teyla's departure to join the Elite had hurt Elkaska as much as it had Torren, and the mutual worry of her safety had continued to bind them together. Yet, in this last year, with both daughters' weddings, Elkaska had visited far more frequently and appeared to be more willing to be a part of the family. He had sat at the family dining table more in this last year than in the previous ten years.

In many ways, Torren felt his family were closer now than ever before, and though that delighted him, it also worried him.

Zabetha would have no children of her own, and though that fact did not distress Torren greatly, he knew it hurt his youngest daughter. Rhakshar was content to be without children of his own, but had confessed to Torren that he had brought up the possibility of adopting children with his wife. Zabetha had not dismissed the possibility, but for now it was a delicate issue.

Then there was Teyla - his Elite daughter who expected to die any day.

He had respected her decision to form a Political Marriage, but the final outcome had been the best that Torren had hoped for. Ties between the Alliance and Atlantis could bring nothing but positive change.

Yet, it was almost as if there was nothing but waiting left now – waiting to hear the news that would one day come. That she had fallen. Though he and Mr Woolsey had ensured that the contract would stay strong beyond such an event, just to have to conceive of it hurt Torren deeply.

Days spent considering such thoughts had tired him out as much as all the actual physical and mental activity of having so many visitors and establishing so many good ties and contracts.

So, to find Elkaska in his office now weighed heavily on him. He should not have returned to his office and instead retired properly for the evening.

"The tea is fresh," Elkaska started, indicating the pot at his elbow.

"I am fine for now, thank you," Torren replied as politely as one had to be with family. He crossed the office and moved around his desk. He settled down into his chair with a touch of relief.

"It is a special brew, traded from a small world across the galaxy," Elkaska continued. "I have an exclusive contract with the farmers. It is selling well on Aria."

Torren rubbed his forehead with a tired heavy hand as he glanced across the papers, pads, and several scrolls littering his desk. He had been the one to put them here. Hakon had attempted to tidy them clearly, but more had been added and the piles had collapsed. Torren idly began rearranging the mess. Tomorrow he would go through them.

"You should try some," Elkaska pushed.

"I do not want tea just now, Elkaska," Torren snapped back as two scrolls refused to sit in one place. He pushed a stack of pads up against them to hold them in place. Why were some peoples still using scrolls anyway?

A hand came into view and a cup of steaming tea was deposited in the middle of the small cleared space on his desk.

Torren drew a calming breath and looked up at his brother by marriage.

"Drink it, Brother," Elkaska said surprisingly softly. "It calms the mind and eases the muscles."

Torren took that as a reference to his tiredness. He almost objected, but that he felt the need to argue told him that he was indeed more tired than he realised. His patience was the greatest of his virtues. At least it was most days.

He pushed the pads further up against the scrolls as Elkaska retreated back to his chair. Only then did Torren give his attention to the tea. It did smell nice. He picked up the cup, inhaled the fragrance, and then sipped at it. The taste was delicate and floral, but not too much so.

"Nice isn't it," Elkaska said a little smugly.

"It is," Torren admitted and settled back into his chair. He closed his eyes and silence descended. Perhaps Elkaska would give him space soon.

The silence continued and Torren drank it in, sipping at the tea again.

After a few long silent minutes, he opened his eyes again and glanced at Elkaska.

The trader looked up from his own cup. "Did you know Major Sheppard would make an offer?"

"I did not know it was his intention," Torren replied honestly.

"From what I saw, it wasn't his intention, more a spontaneous act," Elkaska smiled.

"It was a wise decision, spontaneous or otherwise."

"I thought it interesting that the others from Atlantis, in particular Mr Woolsey, were sat at the far back of the room during the Offering Ceremony. Was Sitayi in on your plan?"

"I had no plan, Elkaska," Torren replied honestly. "Sitayi' actions I cannot speak for though." He had noticed the point as Elkaska had done. Sitayi rarely sat far back in a room, her status giving her a place near the front of any political event, yet she had held back, with Mr Woolsey. That said, Torren had hoped for the outcome that had arrived. He had even had some of the wording for the contract with Atlantis ready just in case.

"She did not look well," Torren added of Sitayi.

"She looked better this morning when she left," Elkaska replied.

"I did not see her leave, I had hoped to speak with her," Torren frowned.

"You were in the middle of the discussions with Altree."

"Oh," Torren muttered tiredly. "That did require a lot of attention."

"Sitayi said she would be returning to Tjaru soon."

Torren nodded and silence once again descended.

"I think Tagan would have approved," Elkaska broke the silence.

Torren kept his attention on his tea as he took another sip.

"The ties with Atlantis are good, but it is also the best decision for Teyla," Elkaska considered. "I would not have objected initially if I'd known she would choose him."

Torren swallowed the mouthful of tea and considered the heated argument he had witnessed between Teyla and John, and then their distanced body language in the link earlier to the Sythus.

"I am not sure that all is well between them anymore," he told his brother.

Elkaska waved a dismissive hand. "Short lived. We both know how stubborn Teyla can be."

"She has to think differently about her life than others do," Torren argued for her, which was odd considering he was usually the one gently arguing with her when such conversations occasionally arose.

"Granted," Elkaska replied. "But, perhaps not as differently as she thinks. Why can an Elite not change their life?"

Torren looked across the room to Elkaska. "You still hope she will walk away from the Elite?" It was such a bizarre idea. "No one leaves the Elite." Not if you included by death.

"She is already in fewer battles than before, working in the Military Council. Who is to say that she could do so more often?" Elkaska argued with sudden passion. "Plus she is now to spend regular spans of time in Atlantis-"

"Which is not the safest of places," Torren interjected.

"The city still stands," Elkaska dismissed. "I do not see why she might live longer than most. I have told you what I have heard about her fighting skills. She is famed even among the Elite themselves to be one of their greatest fighters."

Torren wished Elkaska's hopes were not so painfully attractive as they were. "Even the greatest Elite rarely live beyond a certain age." He hated that he was repeating Teyla's own words on the subject.

"That is not true," Elkaska objected sternly. "I have seen some aged Elite, it is just that they do not fight anymore."

Torren looked at him questioningly.

"True most are removed from the fighting because of a significant injury or disabling illness, but there are more than you know, Torren. It is a fact that the Elite do not discuss."

"Most likely because the numbers of aged Elite are far lower than the rest of the Elite population, alive and dead," Torren stated the haunting facts, wishing that he did not know them.

"Teyla could be one of them," Elkaska stated.

Torren regarded him. "She will not leave the Elite, Elkaska," he said softly. "She will never become the trader you wished her to be."

"I know that," Elkaska replied. "But, I do not believe that she will simply one day not come home."

The fact spoken out loud returned that tired pain in Torren's chest. In so many ways he was tired of having to think about this, to imagine that message one day. To perhaps have to tell Zabetha... Some nights it brought tears to his eyes to think of it.

It was strange now to realise that Elkaska, who Torren always thought somewhat bull-headed in his thinking and removed from the excessive commitments, had in truth been harbouring this same wish.

He had to know it was unlikely.

Yet, to argue against it would deny Elkaska that hope, and perhaps kill it in Torren as well. For they had both already seen enough death and destruction in their family. They did not need more, even if it was built on blind faith and ill-informed hope.

"Perhaps," Torren said kindly, for Elkaska and himself.

Elkaska glanced away, and Torren realised that there were dark circles under the man's eyes as well. Gratitude and understanding welled up in Torren for his brother by marriage.

"Thank you for all your help these past days, Brother," Torren offered and the twitch of surprise across Elkaska's face was not lost on him. "I could not have done this without you. You achieved more for Athos than I."

Elkaska ran a hand over his short greying hair. "I am not so sure about that, but I rather enjoyed this planetary trading."

Torren smiled at that as he sipped some more tea. "Perhaps you could assist more routinely."

Elkaska frowned at that, but then smiled. "If you need someone to oversee the trade with Atlantis..."

Torren smiled at the excitement in his voice. "An entire new galaxy to trade with-" A knock abruptly interrupted him. It was a knock that Torren knew very well. "Come in, Hakon," he called.

"Torren, Elkaska," Hakon greeted them as he leaned round the door, not appearing happy to interrupt them. "I am sorry to interrupt, yet you have an unexpected visitor. He hopes you might have time to see him still."

"Who is it?" Torren asked.

"Ambassador Hulte, of the Genii," Hakon replied pointedly.

Surprised, Torren looked to Elkaska. Considering that Maloo had essentially been snubbed by Teyla, they had made an effort to see to the Genii over the last day. Contracts had been set with the Genii as compensation and Torren had thought all now arranged.

"He is one of their top ambassadors," Elkaska uttered, sitting forward in his seat. "Why arrive so abruptly and unannounced. Very unlike a Genii."

"I suspect it is most important then," Torren considered. "And it is important that we keep ties strong with them. Cowen is unpredictable at best."

Elkaska sneered slightly as he sat back in his chair.

"I will see him in here," Torren told Hakon and his assistant looked surprised at the location. "Make it clear that I have retired for the evening, but that I am making time for him. Subtly, Hakon."

"Of course," Hakon replied and left quickly.

"I rarely trade with the Genii," Elkaska muttered. "Too strict and demanding." He shifted to get up from his chair.

"No, stay, Elkaska," Torren waved him back down. "There is no reason why you cannot be here."

Elkaska sat back with a smile. "Want a witness?"

"Perhaps," Torren smiled as he re-arranged the pads and scrolls further to create enough space for him to rest his forearms on the desk. Elkaska got up from his seat and set a chair forward on the other side of the desk for Hulte. Torren smiled at the subtle placing of it, putting Elkaska just out of view.

A polite knock at the door heralded Hulte's arrival.

"Come in," Torren called, and Hakon entered, the Genii ambassador behind him. Torren rose and moved around his desk. "Ambassador," he greeted.

"Leader Torren," Hulte bowed slightly, the depth of which was highly respectful from a Genii. Immediately Torren sensed this meeting was not about something negative, but possibly was going to be far more interesting. "I apologise for my late and sudden arrival, this was my only free moment to attend and Supreme Leader Cowen had wished me to ensure that you understood that there were no ill feelings between our peoples."

Torren nodded, again surprised at the rather polite wording for a Genii. "I am very grateful to hear that, Ambassador."

"If I might have a short amount of your time, Leader?" Hulte asked.

"Of course, please sit and join us in some tea. My brother, Trader Elkaska, was just introducing me to a new type of tea; perhaps you would like a cup."

"I would," Hulte agreed as he moved to the chair waiting for him, but not before gesturing to his Genii guards to wait outside.

Torren exchanged a subtle surprised look with Hakon over that. Genii visitors were rarely without guards, but it could be seen as another sign that the Genii held no ill will over the events of Teyla's Political Marriage.

As Elkaska poured a cup for the ambassador and presented it, Torren moved back round his desk to sit in his chair. As he sat, he took in the Genii man's body language. Hulte was known to be a powerful military member of Cowen's government, not that their government figures had much power over the decisions Cowen made. They were there to temper where they could and the rest of the time there to enforce his military and political will. Hulte was in his position of power because of a long history of military success and close ties with Cowen himself.

"All is well in the Genii Confederation?" Torren asked to begin the meeting.

"Indeed it is," Hulte replied as he sipped the tea. No other answer would ever be given by a Genii, even if their world was being torn apart, they would never concede that they were anything other than in strict control.

"I am glad that Leader Cowen was not greatly disappointed in the outcome of the Political Marriage," Torren offered.

"He, and all the Genii, were of course disappointed in losing such strong ties with the Athosian people," Hulte replied. Torren thought that somewhat amusing for though they had longstanding agricultural trades, other than that, the Athosians had little to do with the Genii.

"And of course the Elite, through my honoured daughter," Torren pointed out.

Hulte angled his head in faint agreement. "That as well."

Torren nodded.

"Supreme Leader Cowen had hoped for such strong ties, but there is much that distracts his time, and that of all of us, fighting the Wraith and all other evil."

Torren stopped himself from outwardly frowning at that comment. "Is there a particular evil that is concerning Cowen?"

"All is well in the Genii Confederation, thank you," Hulte replied immediately.

A threat from outside the confederation then. Interesting. Torren saw Elkaska raise his eyebrows. For the Genii to even draw attention to a threat that wasn't Wraith would be new.

"I hope that Cowen does not see Atlantis as an evil," Torren said in a carefully measured tone that conveyed the fact that Athos would not agree.

"Far from it," Hulte replied instantly, "Atlantis has had considerable success against the Wraith, and others. It is a possible fact that perhaps they see us as an evil to them."

Interesting.

"How so?" Elkaska interrupted.

Hulte glanced vaguely in his direction before focusing on Torren again. "One Genii in the past has perhaps caused damage to those in Atlantis."

Torren sat back in his chair. "The one known as Kolya?"

Hulte nodded faintly, but did not reply out loud.

"I believe he led an unsuccessful invasion of the Ancestral City and, more recently, he attempted to have my son through marriage assassinated," Torren stated bluntly.

"All without the sanction of the Genii government, I assure you," Hulte added.

Of course not.

"The Genii would hope that Atlantis would not judge all our people by the actions of one man," Hulte said, his straight military back and stern expression in contrast to his careful wording. This was quite unlike the usual Genii tactics.

"We would hope that Atlantis understands that such an individual might appear powerful, but is not. In their disapproval of him, the Genii agree with Atlantis and hope that perhaps a mutual understanding in that regard could be achieved."

"A mutual understanding?" Torren considered.

"After all, your Honoured Daughter's marriage is an example to us all that a common enemy can unite many," Hulte stated carefully.

Torren glanced briefly towards Elkaska, who look shocked at Hulte's open language.

"After all," Hulte said, "we would not wish Atlantis to think that anything that might happen in the future was mistaken as being an action of the Genii."

"Is something about to happen?" Torren asked worriedly.

"No," Hulte replied instantly. "Just that perhaps both sides could be..._vigilant_ in this regard."

"I see," Torren replied. The Genii were washing their hands of Kolya's actions, but clearly worried about the man. Perhaps under threat themselves...

"Of course, such mutual understandings need not be for all to hear, it would simply be an understanding between our peoples," Hulte added.

"An understanding that you would like me to pass to Atlantis for you," Torren concluded.

"If you feel in agreement," Hulte said with very diplomatically.

Torren considered it silently for a moment, more for effect than true need. "I would be happy to pass along your assurances and to recommend to Atlantis that, between all three of our peoples, vigilance is something to be shared."

Hulte nodded.

Mentally Torren added contacting Atlantis tomorrow into his diary. That Hulte had visited unexpectedly and used such secreted terms told Torren that this was an important message and perhaps one that should not wait until Mr Woolsey's next visit. It would also be a good opportunity to speak with Colonel Carter through the Portal, to ensure continued regular communication with Atlantis.

"I can see that I have interrupted your time with Trader Elkaska," Hulte said abruptly and rose from his chair. "I shall leave you to your meeting. Thank you for your time, Leader Torren." He set the tea cup on the edge of Torren's desk and headed towards the door.

Torren got up and moved round his desk quickly, but the Genii was already at the door.

"You are always welcome to visit, Ambassador," Torren stated as was expected. "I am glad that our peoples have an understanding and that no disrespect was intended or taken." The door had opened partway through his words, and they fell on the Genii' guards ears, as Torren had hoped they would.

"I will pass your assurances to Supreme Leader Cowen and our Government," Hulte replied. "Thank you for your time, Leader."

Torren inclined his head and the Genii marched off down the corridor, Athosian guards at a respectful distance behind Hulte's own. Hakon paused in following them and sent a questioningly look down the corridor. Torren smiled at him and indicated the departing Genii.

Torren shut the office door to Hakon following the Genii out of the complex, and he turned to Elkaska. "Interesting."

"I haven't heard a Genii talk like that in a long time," Elkaska muttered with a frown.

Torren moved back towards his desk, but changed his mind and moved to the chair close to Elkaska's, collecting up his teacup as he passed his desk. "When did you last hear them speak that way?" He asked as he sat down in the high-backed soft chairs. It was the one that Charin favoured.

Elkaska was staring at the closed door. "Back in the first days of the Alliance," he said with a distanced voice, as if most of his mind was lingering in old memories.

"They wanted to play a major part in the new Alliance," Torren agreed. He had not been leader of his people at that time, so had not interacted with the Genii politically then. "I can understand that they had wanted to ingratiate themselves with their first allies."

"After they had regained their former Confederation territory that is," Elkaska added with bitterness. "Only then did they want in, and their technology gave them the advantage among the first wave allies."

"Interesting that Hulte would behave in a similar way now," Torren considered as he topped up Elkaska's cup from the pot and then his own.

"Maybe Cowen is in trouble," Elkaska considered.

"Somehow," Torren considered as he looked back towards his closed office door, "I do not think that message came from Cowen."

0000000

The sun faintly tinged the horizon across the First City behind Sora's shoulder as she waited in her place in the shadows cast by the high outer city wall.

She glanced at her timepiece again, angling it to catch the faintest of early morning light.

She hated being above ground.

It was cold as well.

She should have let Father babysit Hulte's visit off world, let him sit in the dark cold places.

She preferred being in warm soft dark places in the nights.

A smug satisfied warmth filled her middle at the thought.

If she took a deep enough breath she could feel the sting of the bruises across her flesh. Ladon knew just what she liked.

She smiled as she lifted the thermal cup that held the hot tea that she had prepared in Ladon's home before setting out to escort the boring Ambassador to the Portal. Now it was her boring duty to wait for his return.

He had better get the job done too.

She sipped at the tea. There was plenty left in the cup, in case it took him all morning to get something so basic completed.

He should just threaten Torren, make it damn clear that he was to-

The Portal lit up, the symbols appearing in quick succession.

The two guards on duty, both Ladon's men, glanced in her direction. They couldn't tell where she was exactly, but they knew she was there.

She waited as the wormhole exploded out and snapped back into its deep glowing pool.

Hulte and his guards stepped through instantly, the Ambassador's straight arrogant shoulders loose, indicating his success without him having to say anything.

He strode down the walkway from the Portal with his chin high.

She got up quietly, waiting until he was about to pass her shadowed location.

"All done, Ambassador?" She asked.

He reacted as she had hoped. Shocked at her presence, he snapped his head round in her direction, but he recovered instantly. His guards looked more shaken.

She still saw Hulte's sneer before he could hide it.

She smiled as she stepped partly out of the shadows.

Hulte glanced at his guards, who backed up a few steps, their attention shifting to watching the dark empty spaces around them.

"Ensuring I returned safely, Sora?" Hulte asked in a soft voice, but his tone like stone.

"Of course," she replied with another smile that he would only be partly able to see in the low light. "And to make sure that you do what you are told," she added sternly.

"It is not your place to tell me what to do," he replied.

"Did you do what you were told?" She demanded.

Hulte shifted to face her fully, his arms loose at his sides, which put them in worrying shadows within the heavy cloak he wore. It was a dated form of clothing, but she saw its advantage now. She settled her gun hand closer to her holster.

He would be stupid to do anything. Ladon and Father would no doubt be angry if she killed him, but that would be Hulte's decision wouldn't it.

"Torren will convey the message," Hulte stated. "I ensured it and also made sure that he will not be turning Atlantis against us."

"Atlantis is already against us," Sora reminded him.

"You had better start altering your thinking, _child_," Hulte said.

Anger rushed up to heat her face.

"I was well experienced fighting Wraith when you were not even formed in your mother's womb. If I had been part of Kolya's invasion team, we would have owned that ancient city for years now."

"So you say," Sora countered. Let him believe his day wasn't passing. They wouldn't need him much longer. Ladon and Father might think he was vital to the change of power, but once Ladon was in control, Hulte would be out.

"I will tell them that you had a nice warm conversation with Torren," she concluded.

Hulte narrowed his eyes at her in silence.

Her fingertips slid across the edge of her holster.

Hulte stepped forward a pace, bringing him closer, into her shadows.

She held her ground; one hand almost on her weapon, and her other hand filled with hot tea. She should probably use the tea first – a few burns were dismissible, a dead Ambassador was harder to explain away.

"You should be more careful, Sora," Hulte said in a quieter voice, one that couldn't reach the ears of his loyal guards. "After all it is only your body that keeps you interesting to him."

She kept her expression controlled in case he could see more of her face stood closer.

She could faintly smell Athosian incense clinging to his clothes.

How did he know about her and Ladon?

"You have no political influence. Once Kolya or Radim is in power," he whispered, "do you really think he'll still want you in his bed?"

She kept silent, knowing he was baiting her to raise her temper, to maybe test his intelligence on her and Ladon.

"You are a good soldier," he continued, "if you are smart, you'll focus on that and make yourself more useful to them. After all," he shifted forward a little more, bringing him right into the shadows with her, "they can't get rid of me, but you, if Cowen finds out...you're the perfect one to take the blame. After all you were Kolya's pet first."

She ground her teeth together, her hand hurting from squeezing her cup.

Hulte smiled smugly at her. "Good girl. Best to remain quiet. If you're wise, you'll do that more and know your place." He moved away, moving back into the growing early morning light. "Tell our friends that I have spoken with Torren. At the least I expect a response in the confirmative or negative, and after that..." he brought his arms and hands out of the concealed shadows of his cloak as he adjusted the front of his jacket. "Well, we shall have to wait and see what Kolya does. Either way, you will still have a safe place as a pet. If you're good."

He strode away from her.

Blood dribbled down her lower lip as she released her bite from her own flesh.

Unable to do anything to him, she watched his back moving away, his smug swagger itching at her.

She threw the cup away from her, the crashing sound of ceramic hitting stone and the spill of tea flying through the air was a satisfying release of her anger, but Hulte didn't pause in his retreat from her.

"Deliver my message, Child," Hulte stated over his shoulder before he and his guards disappeared around towards the entrance to the First City.

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TBC


	33. In the Dark of the Night

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**Chapter 33 – In the Dark of the Night**

It was dark and quiet in the hallways of the Sythus as Seeal walked through the lower level of the ship towards her unique set of quarters. Her footsteps were the only sound down here, and the night lighting cast dull shadows on either side of her as she trod tired steps forward. Her attention was solely focused on the one remaining pad in her hand though. She hadn't been able to keep all the full access that Ru's pads had provided, but she'd been given access to the folder of gathered data from the fight with the new style Wraith ship.

A brief glance at the time displayed in one corner of the pad confirmed to Seeal that it was as late as she felt. From overheard conversations and being in on the Elite's meeting earlier, she estimated that the Sythus would reach the Lantana system in the next two hours. She had been able to see on several charts up in Central Station that the route plotted was less than direct. The Sythus was taking a roundabout route that would arrive well inside the Alliance held side of the system, which presumably would be where the Elite would be meeting up with the Military Fleet's Commanders. She estimated from past experience of her own, and from overheard snippets of comments, that it would probably take a further few hours for the Sythus to meet up with said Commanders. Therefore, by her estimation there was another good five hours before the big meeting, and an hour or two further if the Sythus went straight on to the battlefront. Therefore, there was plenty of time for her to sleep tonight and not wake up in the middle of a massive space battle.

Whatever plan the Elite had up their collective sleeves, Seeal was going to find herself right in the middle of things. Not that she would have anything to do, unless something unforeseen happened and she might be needed. Instead she was going to have to keep out of things, maybe just focus on Toshka's database.

That database didn't interest her right now. She sighed and tapped the pad's display, drawing up more of the data. She had been looking at it all for hours now, everyone disappearing to bed or duty station.

It was just so stupid, it didn't make any sense to her.

Why would the Wraith blow up their own ship for no good reason? And even if they were that crazy, why not take out the Sythus along with it?

The others had put forward plenty of explanations – timing, the Sythus' escape manoeuvres at the time of the detonation...

It was just so stupid.

She had never seen the Wraith be so...useless before. There wasn't any logic in it.

Except perhaps for Sheppard's idea that the explosion might have been accidental, probably due to internal damage the ship might have sustained from its previous battles with the Wraith Hive and cruiser. Of course not because a Wraith had accidentally leant on the self-destruct button, as Sheppard had joked.

There were explanations for what had happened and, far too late to almost care, her tired brain was finally starting to accept the Elite's explanation - the Wraith blew up their ships and sometimes their targets got away.

Maybe it was because in her own experience, limited as it was to childhood desperate escapes from culling Wraith, meant that she had never seen the Wraith be unsuccessful before. In her previous experience of cullings, people had always died, buildings burned, and children were left alone. The streets had always been filled with shrivelled bodies, their faces locked in death moment screams. The Wraith had always been desperately effective.

The dark memories played across her mind's eye, haunting her through the chilled edges of the shadows around her. During her earliest years on the Glisi homeworld, the Wraith had been unseen demons that were spoken about as if they were constantly watching, waiting to pounce and kill. She had been filled with nervous tension by her people to believe that just the wrong word, a flicker of torchlight, or any other tiny superstitious thought her people believed could conjuror up the demonic Wraith would bring destruction down upon her. Of course most of them had thought she, being cursed and different, meant that the Wraith might appear to kill them all.

That hadn't happened for years, but one day a culling had eventually occurred, a small number of Wraith appearing through the trees one night to attack the camp. Though the Wraith hadn't killed many, it had been enough for her people to turn on her and her family. Father had been killed, by human hand not Wraith, and she and Ulfur had barely escaped through the Portal with their lives. The Wraith might not have killed many Glisi, but the threat of them had haunted her life even so young and had set her on a life of struggle and pain.

Afterwards, living as a street kid on other planets, she had witnessed how the Wraith culled other worlds and had seen how protected the Glisi truly were in their frozen dark forest.

On all the worlds she had been the Wraith always been effective, unyielding and fatal. She had enough terror-filled childhood memories from that time to satisfy that belief, and only a week ago now she had watched the Elite stand in the face of a Wraith invasion back through the Glisi trees. She had watched as the Wraith, like the demon creatures of all the old stories, had flooded forward, bursting from snow-covered branches, scrabbling through limbs, and jumping down upon her and the Elite like the ever effective predators that they were.

And the Wraith Queen...her hair had been red like blood as she had stood over the drugged Oneakka and unconscious Halling. The Queen's long demonic fingers had seemed almost translucent, like the coldest snow... Those feeding hands had been effective enough on the fallen female Elite. Yes, those Wraith had been effective enough.

Yet, out there in space today, the new ship hadn't moved like a narrow-minded predator. It had jumped about with its new drive tech, and chosen to ram its unusual upper hull into the belly of the Sythus. It had meant to gut its prey, weaken it. Wraith didn't do that in her experience. They slammed hands to chests and drank life in a brutal instant. The victims swept up in the ships were simply to be delivered to other immediate hands up in the Hive. Wraith gave death directly and efficiently.

The new Seed ship had not been efficient, and that bugged her. It itched at her, telling her something didn't make sense. It was an instinct that she knew was informed by a lifetime of experience in watching criminal behaviour. She might be more experienced with human behaviour, but abnormal behaviour was still abnormal, regardless of the species.

But, there wasn't anything to do about it. There was no evidence that Wraith had slipped aboard the Sythus, or left a bomb or anything else behind that might destroy the ship or draw in more Wraith. The ship was clean.

Apparently she was simply being paranoid.

Maybe all that had happened over the last couple of weeks was reason enough for her to be on edge, but still...

She had reached the door to her "quarters", one of the ship's two Hot Water Regulation Chambers. The door, as always, was shut. She pressed the control for the door and that hatchway slid open, revealing the dimly lit room inside that was fast becoming the closest place to "home" that she had right now.

Stepping inside, she moved to trigger on the main lights, but changed her mind and simply triggered the hatchway shut again. There was enough light emanating from the panels on the left-hand wall for her to see her way into the room. As she passed by them, she ran her eyes over the panels with growing familiarity. Ru had talked her through the displays, thinking she guessed that since she spent so much time in here now she might as well watch the readings for him. Everything was normal across the panels, the faint orange and green light glowing softly and not carrying all that far. It provided enough light for her to make her way around the main central large pipe towards her bed mat spread on the floor against the far wall.

She should get changed and go to sleep, but oddly felt too tired to bother changing her clothes. She slumped down on the top of the bed mat and its thin blanket and contemplated the dark ceiling above her.

The warm dry heat in here was like a bath of comfort, soothing and calming her like nothing else. It couldn't be further away from the cold damp of ice and snow in which she had grown up, or the dank cold sleeping places on the streets. Here the heat soothed and felt like a comforting blanket around her. She was all alone except for the warmth, the glow of the panels, and the constant white noise of the water rushing through the pipes.

She turned her head slightly to look at the closest edge of the mass of piping flowing into the chamber, merging into wider pipes, until finally pouring through into the largest main central pipe that disappeared down through the floor. The water, having been heated to extreme temperatures by being piped around the Sythus' engine, ended up here or in the other Hot Water Regulation Chamber on the other side of the Sythus. Heading down through this large central pipe, the hot water was then circulated around this side of the Sythus, providing hot water for showers and taps, and warming the ship's interior against the engulfing penetrating cold of space.

The constant background rushing of the contained, hot and highly pressurised water was almost hypnotic for Seeal. Ru had said it reminded him of the ocean, but she had only seen the ocean a few times in her life and had not overly enjoyed the experience. The ocean on the Glisi world was freezing cold, and the edges that would freeze in the depth of winter were unpredictable and excessively dangerous. Plus, she had always feared what might be lingering under the surface.

For her, the sound of the water through the pipes was more akin to breathing or the wind in the trees. It was constant, but with subtle unpredictable variations within it. It soothed her as much as the warmth did, and she listened to it now, letting the tiredness seep deeper.

She lifted the electronic pad she still held in her hand, and triggering the display back to life, forcing herself to look at the data one last time.

Except, there was still nothing to see. Nothing.

She _was_ being paranoid. It wouldn't be the first time.

The problem was that even the most paranoid of people could be right...it was just that no one would believe them when they were. Like those who walked the streets foretelling each day that the Wraith were on their way to destroy everyone...sooner or later that day would always come.

Sighing at herself, she shut down the pad and set it by the side of the mat. It wasn't her problem– the Elite would fight their battle tomorrow and she'd just have to keep out the way and pray the ship survived to take her back to safety.

Why she had decided to come back onto the Sythus was anybody's guess.

Maybe she was the stupid one.

She looked back up to the dimly lit ceiling overhead and listened to the contained flowing water.

The dream slid upon her gently, like snowflakes falling against her skin. She felt them brushing against her chilled cheek and opened her eyes to the open expanse of snow. There were no trees, which was odd. There should be trees overhead, otherwise the protection of the forest was gone. She stepped back, looking around her for the treeline, but there was nothing by white sky and cold snow, snowflakes falling around her.

There was no one here, no tracks, no sense of another being.

In the distance though she thought could hear the suggestion of a voice singing on the breeze.

The wind brushed against her, dancing through her clothes and trailing her hair about her. She closed her eyes to the sense of it, drawing in the clean clear smell. She was all alone, free, and...

The flutter of a raven's wings made her turn, the whisper of a voice just on the edge of her hearing.

Dark trees surrounded her now. She knew this part of the forest; it was dangerously close to a large river that had carried even the strong Glisi away when the high mountain ice melted.

Coming upon the river now, she found it was frozen over, the air chilled and strangely disturbing.

She moved quietly, softly, the snowflakes crunching under her boots.

He was with her now, far behind her shoulder, his pale skin merging all too easily with the snow, but the black lines of his tattoos distinguishing him from everything else.

The flap of wings drew her attention upwards, her nerves grating as a strange sound echoed through the trees.

The ice was creaking...under her feet...she shouldn't be standing on the frozen river!

As she turned towards Oneakka, reaching out a hand in warning and to beg for help, she heard the ice cracking loudly under her, the freezing river ready to swallow her down –

She snapped awake to the hot warmth of the chamber, her breathing fast and her nerves still sharply edged.

The ceiling was still dark above her, the glow of the panels and the-

A tiny sound caught her attention instantly.

She froze, all of her being focusing on the sound with the instinctive reaction to detecting something out of place. Her entire being focused on her senses, and she held her breath as she listened.

Focus and adrenaline chased the last of the dream's images away, but the lingering feeling of something being wrong hung around.

Had someone snuck into the chamber? She was certain she would have heard the door open.

Moving just her head, she looked to her left. Through the darkness her eyes adjusted to the patterns of pipes and shadows, the shapes forming and distinct. From here she could see around behind the large central pipe towards the chamber's hatchway. The door was shut.

No one could have entered her space without her hearing and waking up – she was certain of that, because it had happened enough times in the past.

The strange sudden noise repeated. It was a tiny brief scratching sound.

Was it perhaps the goat scratching at the outside of the door to come in here?

She focused more intently as the noise repeated.

No, the sound was in the chamber...off to the left, from among the pipes.

The only weapon she had was the knife in her boot.

The sound repeated again, but lasted a little longer this time.

No boot or fabric made such a noise; it had sounded like metal against metal. It had seemed subdued though, like it came from behind something.

She got up from her bed mat quietly, rolling up onto one knee, listening closely, controlling her breathing so as not to distract her ears. Just like in her dream, she had the strong rush that something was wrong around her, something as different. What could be different?

The sound scratched again and she moved quickly, slinking into the myriad of piping, turning her head to better locate the direction of the noise.

It scratched again, repeating quickly and then quietening. It was almost like the sound of nails on metal. Turning among the pipes, she waited for the sound to repeat. Standing within the labyrinth of piping, the heat was stronger and felt in strange sharp contrast to the hovering cold from her dream.

The scratch echoed again, repeating, and this time she was able to lock onto its direction. Slipping out from between smaller pipes and under the two second largest pipes, she found herself stood by a smaller pipeline which ran at shoulder level out of the far wall up to where it met one of the secondary pipes.

The sound repeated, and she was certain this time that it was coming from inside this smaller pipe. Slipping up next to it, the light from the panels not glowing this far, she frowned at the thick metal pipe.

A long scrape echoed from inside it, but further along now. She stepped to her left and set her hand on the pipe as the sound repeated immediately. Something metallic was in the pipe, and moving along it.

It was probably a piece of debris – hadn't Ru said there had been a tiny breach in the water pipes near the impact site earlier? Tiny pieces of debris had most likely gotten into the water...

The scratch returned, but with another along with it and from even further along the pipe...almost to the bend that would take the water up to join one of the secondary pipes. The sounds had reverberated through the metal channel wall against her hand. That was no tiny piece of metal, it had to be half the size of the piping... Which was when she realised what had been bothering her, the background sound of the water had changed ever so slightly. Only stood here by the pipe could she register that clearly. The debris was no doubt blocking up part of the pipe and the pressure inside the pipe had changed, affecting the sound of the water inside.

Shouldn't there be filters in the water though? To ensure nothing go swept along in the pipes? She was almost certain Ru had said there were filters. Maybe this piece was too big and had broken through a filter.

The metal pipe was hot, but not burning hot as she ran her hand further along the pipe to the upward turn. There was a tiny shake inside, a reverberation carried to her hand, and she heard the scratching start up anew...moving up the pipe now.

It reminded her of the tiny tree creatures back on the Glisi world that had climbed the trees with long sharp claws. The sound of their claws on sheet ice had made her teeth itch as a child. Why did this debris sound like it was climbing upwards inside the pipe?

It was in her head. It was just a piece of debris being pushed along by the water pressure. It no doubt had some sharp edges from the impact site and they were scratching against the inside of the pipe. It made sense.

The scratches continued up the pipe and she stepped back, worrying on her lip.

She should tell someone.

The scraping accelerated, the sound itching her teeth now for certain...it was almost to the secondary pipe overhead. She ran her eyes along the dim length of that pipe which fed down almost immediately into the primary central pipe that ran down through the floor to reach the rest of the ship. The central pipe...

She slid out from between the pipes and moved around to the far side of the central pipe, in the middle of which there was a wide thick neck of metal that held a seal that could be closed to seal up the pipe. The panel glowing on the front of it showed the contained water's readings. She tapped through the display, trying to remember Ru's explanations, as she looked for readings that might be off.

There was an increase in water pressure detected, but not enough to run into the red end that presumably meant warning. She paused to listen to the scratching again...it was almost at the entrance to the secondary pipe. If there was something dangerous or potentially sharp and pointed in the water, then she could shut the seal on the main pipe and halt its progress down into the rest of the ship.

It was probably a piece of debris, not the crazy paranoid thoughts that occurred to her...if something small had snuck aboard, wouldn't the water pipes be a useful way to navigate around the ship?

She looked away across the dim room towards the communications panel on the wall. She could dash over and have a conversation with a low level crewmember who would want clearance for any action, or she could shut the seal herself and then talk to someone about it later.

She lifted the protective cover off the emergency seal button – surely there would be plenty of emergency procedures that would kick in once she did this...and she was almost certain they would involve dropping the Sythus out of hyperspace. They couldn't risk the water around the engine growing too hot if it wasn't moving...

The scraping was louder now, almost as if the thing making it was bigger...it was in the second pipe, within seconds it would reach the central pipe.

"They're just going to have to yell at me," she muttered and slammed her fist onto the emergency seal button.

The reaction was immediate, red lights began flashing, and the central pipe began to shimmy as she heard the physical rasping of the seal closing inside the pipe. The previously constant smooth sound of the water inside changed abruptly.

She stepped back slightly, all too aware of what kind of pressures would be going on inside those pipes. The display on the panel flashed that the seal was complete. The central primary pipe was sealed shut, but there was a lot of sloshing and pressurized sounds coming from the rest of the pipes.

Wincing she looked off towards the closed doorway in here, soon enough techs, engineers, and probably Tyoosi would be turning up. Oneakka might not be pleased with her. Some might think this was a way of slowing down the Sythus or-

Multiple scratches and what shockingly sounded like a screech echoed out from inside the central pipe in front of her, snapping her attention back to it.

Debris didn't sound like that, did it?

The scratches became confined to one spot, just above the seal and the panel on the pipe. She frowned worriedly as she stepped back further from the pipe. The communications panel was on the wall a metre or so behind her.

Something tiny, sharp and shiny abruptly pierced out through the side of the primary pipe. Seeal's jaw dropped as she watched it wiggle around in the dim light and then snap back inside.

Water immediately jettisoned out of the tiny hole, spraying up in a high, hot arch of water. Seeal darted back from it, only to see the tiny metal lance reappear through the hole away, wiggling again, forcing the hole a little bigger.

Something really was in the pipe and was cutting its way out!

She dashed for the communications panel and slammed her palm against the call button. "Intruder in Hot Water Regulation Chamber," she shouted over the sound of spurting water and another shriek from the pipe. "The main seal is in place, but the primary pipe is breaching!" She added and turned back towards the sound of more water spraying out of the pipe.

Three long thin spines – or were they claws? – were wiggling around the growing hole in the front of the pipe now, water spraying out under high pressure around them.

She needed a weapon! Somehow the thin blade in her boot didn't seem good enough right now. On the wall to her left there was an iron bar that she had always assumed was for opening up the panel or the pipes. If she could get to it...

The hatch abruptly slid open to her far right and Oneakka and Si filled her grateful view.

"What's going on?!" Oneakka shouted over the spraying water.

She took a step forward and pointed, arm outstretched, towards the hole in the pipe through which "something" was trying to get out. "THAT happened!" She shouted over the water.

Si was moving towards the pipe, a stunner in his hand, but that wasn't going to help with all this water around to dissipate the charge.

"I told you something got aboard!" She shouted to Oneakka as he moved towards her, moving around the spraying hot water.

Abruptly the claws thrust out further from the hole, one touching down against the pipe's panel.

All the lights, the flashing reds, the wall of glowing panels, and the hallway lighting outside the open door all abruptly shut off, plunging them into complete and sudden darkness. The rush of water continued though, confirming to her that she hadn't just passed out.

The emergency lighting snapped on a split second later, but it she could already see the pipe glowing in front of her, flickers of lightening or electric current dancing around the hole.

The pipe exploded apart, pieces flying around Seeal as she dropped to the floor, turning away, protecting her head and face as best she could. Something pinged past her cheek, flicking her hair aside, and suddenly the spraying water from before was a gushing roar of sound now.

Aware of Oneakka's hand leaving her shoulder, she opened her eyes to find that she was in a pool of water, the chamber's floor filling up fast. Looking back round towards the pipe, she watched as the two large Elite darted away from the side of the central pipe, revealing that it had been ripped open and water was vomiting down from the remaining part above, spewing gallons of water down into the chamber.

"It's getting free!" Si was shouting over the noise of the water.

"Catch it!" Oneakka shouted back, the two of them darting around into the pipes chasing something.

"Seeal seal the chamber!" Si shouted at her, snapping her out of her faintly dazed state.

She clambered up off the water logged floor, almost slipping over as she lunged up and across the chamber's hatch. Outside in the corridor, crew were running towards the hatch.

"Intruder inside," she shouted at them, holding out a hand as she triggered the door to shut them out. "Got to contain it!"

Water was pouring around her boots, flowing out into the corridor, gushing towards the shocked looking approaching crew.

"Wraith?" One of them shouted as the door began to seal.

"It's made of metal," she shouted back as a brief summary as the hatch shut in her face.

She turned quickly back towards the spectacle inside. Unfortunately, with the hatchway now closed the water had nowhere to go except upwards, at the speed it was gorging into the room, she didn't think it would take too long to flood out the place. It was already above her ankles as she waded forward, looking off worriedly to the right. The Elite were in the far right corner of the room, obscured by all the piping, but she could hear them shouting and apparently fighting with whatever had escaped the central pipe.

"It's under that pipe here," Si shouted.

"It's burrowing," Oneakka shouted back, the two sounding like they were fighting a rabid creature.

She turned her attention back to the torn burst central pipe. She needed to shut the water off or all three of them were either going to drown or end up flooding the ship! She needed help, but she'd just sealed that out.

She hurried back through the chamber towards the communications panel. The air in the chamber was getting seriously humid with the hot water rushing in. Fortunately the water wasn't as hot as Seeal had worried, but it was far from cold. Wiping moisture from her face she got to the panel and hit the button.

"Someone?" She shouted into it, the noise of the waterfall even louder now the door was shut and the room was filling up. "Turn off the water entering the chamber!"

"...can't...further back," a voice called back to her.

"Ru?" She thought she recognised the voice. "The primary pipe has been ripped open, how do we stop the water?"

"Further up," the voice was just about audible. Si cried out in pain across the room and swore in a language that didn't translate.

"You need to talk louder!" She ordered into the panel.

"The two smaller...pipes that combine...the primary pipe, at the top...where they join there are more seals...must be closed!" Ru shouted back through the panel's speaker.

"How?! She shouted back into it.

"They...be...physically closed. There's...lever to...turn the seals closed," he shouted back. "Let...crew in and...help."

"We can't risk it getting out," she shouted back. "I can close the seals."

She turned away from the wall panel and sloshed her way back across the chamber towards the central pipe, nervously glancing in the direction of the battling Elite. She couldn't see what was happening in that far darkened corner, but she had to trust that they would deal with that threat while she made sure they didn't drown.

She moved around the gorging torn central pipe and moved around behind it, wading through calf deep water. The largest of the other pipes running to the central pipe, were above head height, and she ran her hands along them from the back of the primary pipe. Everything was soaking well, including her trousers and water had gotten into her boots already.

She found the seals easily enough along both the secondary pipes, the thick collars housing the seals obvious around the two pipes. She felt around them, seeking out how to close them, but only found a small slot on the sides...which would be where the lever Ru had mentioned must come in. Kind of like that iron bar across the room...

She turned, frowning across the room, but the bar wasn't attached to the wall anymore. Muttering and cursing the terrible design of the place, she sloshed back across the dimly lit emergency lit room. There was a clear current to the water now, above her knees, as she made it to the far wall. Turning, she looked around her, but everything was under water and she couldn't make out the lever anywhere. Crouching down into the water, she lowered her arms quickly into the water and felt around the floor, hoping the iron bar hadn't gone too far. Her skin felt painfully tender from the heat of the water, and all she came across with her fingers were pieces of metal, which presumably where from the burst pipe.

There was no choice but to go under the water's surface and use her eyes. She took a quick breath and lowered down onto all fours, going completely under the water now.

The noise from above instantly muted, but the sound of the current on the surface of the water seemed louder as she opened her eyes against the rush of water and looked around. She was pretty sure this stuff was filtered.

It was dimly lit down here, though what light there was from above cascaded further through the water, but there was one light shining in the distance, flickering around as if moving. It was coming from the corner where Oneakka and Si were fighting the unknown creature...was the thing emitting a light or had one of the Elite brought the light?

Whatever its source it was useful as she glanced around the floor, and the light shone off a line of metal a metre away from her. She pushed her way towards the bar, half crawling and half swimming to get to it.

Grasping hold of it in both hands she pushed herself up and out of the water, her hair plastered instantly to her face and neck. Releasing one hold on the lever she wiped the mass of soaked hair from her face as she made her way as fast as possible back towards the secondary pipes.

The air was thick with humidity now, and as she passed the primary spewing pipe she noticed her bag float past her. All she owned on this ship was in there, and now soaked through – great.

"Got it!" She heard Si shouting to Oneakka. "Get that other leg."

Back under one of the secondary pipes, Seeal reached up and located the slot for the end of the lever and reached up with it, struggling to get the lever in place everything being so wet.

"Stupid damn design," she spluttered, wiping more water from her face. She realised a second later that even with the lever in place now, she was in the wrong position to force the thing to move. Cursing she waded further round under the pipe so that she could plant her feet and grip the lever with hands and push hard.

The emergency lighting flickered for a second as she started to get the lever to turn, forcing the seal across inside the secondary pipe above her.

Across the room she heard Oneakka curse, Si behind him, the men's voices sharp like something had hurt them. Abruptly a sizzle went through the water around her, sharp spikes of pain against her as a weak electric field dissipated. Her breath stolen for a second, she held still, nervous that another electric shock would soon follow, but nothing did accept the Elite cursing in their struggle.

"It's open, get that bit," Si was shouting over the still rushing sound of the water.

Seeal put her back behind the lever again and pushed it hard, her hands slipping on the metal, but it was turning. From the feel of it, the seal had never had to move before, and she wondered if anyone bothered to do any maintenance on the damn thing.

Worrying away on exactly how much water could be tunnelling through the Sythus' pipes, she pushed again with the lever and suddenly it was giving more. She had to remove and reinsert the lever again to keep turning it, swearing once more at the stupid design, and pushed again. The water was up to her hips now, but the first secondary pipe was almost shut. She could hear the water inside spraying through at higher pressure, the sound of the water pouring out of the primary changing slightly in pitch.

Grunting and swearing, she lost her grip on the lever twice more, the water clinging to everything, but with one last forceful push the lever turned easily and the seal closed inside the first of the two secondary pipes. Victory was at hand, just one more to go.

She quickly pulled the lever free and moved round under the second pipe, feeling around for the slot and set the lever into its nook. As she did she heard a sizzle in the air, but there was no electric current this time.

"...evil Wraith crap!" Oneakka bellowed from the corner behind her. Presumably what current had been there had gone into Oneakka by the sounds of it, but if he was able to shout and curse about it, then he was fine.

The lever in place on the second pipe, she focused on getting a good purchase on it and pushed, but her grip slipped again, and with the humidity even higher now, she was started to feel lightheaded.

"Wraith shit!" She shouted as she shook off her hands as best she could and tried again. "COME ON!"

Abruptly the humidity around her broke and the water began to lower around her – someone had opened the hatch. She was vaguely aware of people shouting over the still present sound of water pouring out, but the rush of cooler air was a grateful relief against her flushed face.

She focused hard on the lever though, putting all she had behind it. It gave a little, but not enough. She changed her stance, water sloshing around her, her clothes saturated and her hair sticking to her throat and shoulders. She pushed as hard as she could.

Abruptly a large pale male hand came into her limited, water soaked view. Oneakka's hand wrapped round the lever next to her wet hand, adding his weight to the push along with her. Yet, despite his added strength, the lever barely moved.

He shifted round, his chest meeting her back and his other hand landed higher up on the lever, her two tanned hands sandwiched between his pale ones along the lever. Together they strained and the lever finally began to move.

"This is a stupid design!" Seeal shouted as the sound of the water entering the chamber changed as the seal began to move. The last pipe was being sealed, but it was only adding more pressure to the water still flowing through it. She could hear the spray through the air, and could hear people talking over the straining rush in her ears.

"Where is it?" Someone shouted.

"It's digging in," another replied.

"Here," Si' deep voice intoned.

"I've got its back open."

"That wire!"

"It's not a wire."

The voices were just a background noise with the water now though as Seeal felt the lever moving, and watched Oneakka's bare arms flexed alongside her own. With a sudden burst the lever was turned and she staggered, almost losing her footing in the ankle deep water now. Fortunately, Oneakka held firm and she used his bare wet arm to hold herself up as he repositioned the lever back up into the seal collar so that they could put another turn into it. She set her hands back between his and she widened her stance, using his chest for purchase against her back, and pushed hard into the lever.

It lever moved, slowly, but surely this time.

"You've almost got it," Ru's voice arrived from close by.

Oneakka reached up and repositioned the lever.

"One more turn should do it."

"You need to rethink this stupid design," Seeal shouted back at Ru wherever he was. "In the middle of a crisis you need a system that works and works quickly!"

Oneakka's arms pressed against the outside of hers as they got another last good grip on the lever and pushed together. Oneakka grunted loudly in her ear and she felt him lean forward further into the push, adding an extra dynamic piece of male strength into the equation and suddenly the lever was moving. The sound of the water abruptly shut off as she and Oneakka pushed the seal closed with one last push.

The sudden absence of constant sound was almost more of an assault against Seeal's ears than the water had been.

Gasping with relief and muscle fatigue, she let go of the lever and stepped aside, leaving Oneakka to reposition the lever one last time to easily tightened the seal inside the pipe.

Feeling absolutely spent and aware that she was completely soaked through to the bone, she shook off her sleeves and ran a hand over her hair, squeezing out an extreme excess amount of water.

Turning round, she found to her surprise that the chamber was full of people. A small dam was set across the entrance to the chamber, which was keeping the water inside at ankle depth. Outside in the corridor, people were moving about, sweeping or something – she wondered how far the water had flooded out of the chamber down the hallway.

Tyoosi moved through her view, his glaze moving over her briefly before he carried on towards the main huddle of people in the far corner of the room. Shifting aside, she peered through pipes to see the huddle of crew, Si at their centre, lifting the metal creature into a large metal bag. Several cables were running out of it to a pad held in a technician's hand.

"No readings as yet," the man reported nervously as the bag was lifted.

"Straight into decontamination," Tyoosi ordered as six people carried the bag across the chamber, implying the thing inside was heavy. Seeal watched with a confused frown as she squeezed her hair out further. How had it gotten that big? Had it grown since it escaped from the pipe?

Security hovered nervously around the six carrying the creature, one almost slipping over in the room sized puddle as they carefully carried the thing out of the chamber.

"Are you okay, Seeal?" Ru asked, stepping into her view, his face seeming pale and worried. She imagined he had quite a lot of work ahead of him to repair the Elite's ship.

"She's fine," Oneakka answered for her as he appeared at her left elbow. Like her, he was soaked through, water dripping off his short dark hair and armour. Did he sleep in his armour? "How did you find it?" He demanded.

"I heard it clawing its way through the pipes," she explained, pointing to the pipe she had originally located.

"It must have gotten into the water supply during the impact," Tyoosi stated, stepping up into the conversation. "Here," he added, pushing a dry towel into her hand.

"Thank you," she replied, taking it from him with desperate gratitude, which she hopefully didn't show. "It was climbing up from there, up through into this secondary pipe, so I shut the seal on the central pipe. I didn't want it getting down and out of here, guessed it would be difficult to get to it." She wiped the towel over her face absently.

"Good thing you did," Tyoosi replied, surprising her again. "The initial first power drain in this section was simultaneous with a sudden broadcast attack on the ship's computer system."

She remembered the thing had tapped into the primary's panel for power just before it had exploded the pipe apart. So much raw power, but it had also looked unstable. How had it also used it to hack into the ship's computer? She'd never seen anything Wraith being remotely like that before.

"What did it get?" Oneakka asked Tyoosi worriedly.

"Nothing," Tyoosi reported. "The firewall barely had any trouble with it. From what the techs can tell me so far, it was an old hack programme, really old. It didn't have a chance against our computer. I'm surprised the Wraith even use it still."

Seeal wiped her face and neck more thoroughly with her towel, aware a chill over her skin from being so soaked through.

She looked away. All her things had been in here, and since she had seen her bag float past earlier, there was no chance she had anything dry to put on. Great. It was a good thing she didn't have anything precious with her.

She moved away from Tyoosi and Oneakka, while keeping in a listening ear. Clearly there had been no real danger from the metal creature, well, not to the computers anyway. If it had been allowed lose in the ship however it could have torn through who knew what.

She found her bed mat across the room. It was a water-logged mass, as was her bag and some tops close by. She lifted the bag out of the puddle that was the floor and emptied water out of it. A few of her clothes slopped out. She fished them up and shook them ineffectually.

"Here," Ru appeared at her side, offering her a couple more soggy pieces of fabric. "These must be yours."

"Thanks," Seeal muttered as she shoved them into the saturated bag.

"You can take them to the laundry room close by, they'll be washed and cleaned by tomorrow," he suggested.

"Yeah," Seeal agreed, but her mind was elsewhere. "New tech wouldn't be using such outdated programmes," she reasoned.

"It supports the suggestion that perhaps this is old tech that they found in that moon base," Ru replied. "Maybe they are trying it out."

"Ru!" Oneakka called sternly. "You are needed with the robot."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Ru bowed hurriedly. "See you later," added and Seeal nodded vaguely as he left.

She moved back towards Oneakka and Tyoosi, Si at their side.

"...not enough power in it to make a difference, so it tried a stun," Si was reporting. Oneakka had watched her approach and his eyes dropped to her saturated bag. She pulled a face at it and set it up on top of some of the pipes, at least out of the water for now.

"Good thing there wasn't enough juice left in that thing," she pointed out, "or it could have killed us in all that water."

"And fried itself," Si pointed out.

She nodded at the point. "Does it have organic parts under the metal covering?"

"Yes, that we saw," Si replied. "But I've not seen any Wraith tech like that before."

"It must be old tech to use an old hacking programme," she put in. "If it's the same style tech as the Seed ship it came from, then maybe they did find it on the moon base, or somewhere else, and reinitialised it."

"It could be that another ancient Hive has awoken," Tyoosi considered.

"Really?" Seeal asked. "I thought all the Wraith woke up at the rise of the Alliance."

"Some stayed asleep, biding their time," Oneakka replied to her. "We got rid of those we found."

"Maybe this tech is from a very old Hive," Tyoosi stated. "There was that Hive on the Creatitinea moon that was a millennium old. It's Queen was feeding off her crew every century or so, and continuing to sleep."

Seeal winced at such a horrible thought, plus she hadn't realised the Wraith cannibalised each other. Just when she thought they couldn't get any worse!

"Maybe," Oneakka replied, sounding doubtful.

"Or they're getting desperate," Seeal put in. The three men all glanced at her. "Maybe in their fight against you, they're even digging out old unstable tech." She ran a hand over her hair again, feeling that she probably looked like a drowned ground hog. "Maybe that explains why their ship exploded," she suggested. "The tech is unstable."

"Maybe the new drive we saw," Oneakka considered.

Seeal nodded. "It makes more sense than just wanting to destroy the Seed ship to hide the tech from us, especially as we now know they did leave a little gift onboard."

"The only way to find out is to study the robot," Oneakka stated.

"Let's do it then," Seeal said impatiently.

All three of the men looked at her doubtfully.

She frowned at them angrily. "You've got to be kidding me! After all I've done? I found the thing and, once again, helped _save_ your ship!"

The three men looked at each other.

"She can take a look at the hacking programme," Oneakka suggested.

Si exchanged a glance with Oneakka and then nodded to her. The two Elite then looked to Tyoosi.

The Security Lead frowned at them and then at her. She set her damp hands on her soaked through hips and looked at the man.

"Very well, Honoured Elite," Tyoosi agreed, admittedly reluctantly.

She smiled victoriously as the men turned away – good, it was about time they started recognising she was in on all this with them.

She reached up to retrieve her soaked bag and sloshed after the Elite.

00000  
TBC


	34. Saturday Night

00000

**Chapter 34 – Saturday Night**

It was getting really late and Sam knew she should have gone to bed hours ago. She'd already been up too many hours today, worried about John out there with the Elite, worried about how the IOA were going to react, and worried about all the more usual common stresses of running a military base in another galaxy.

Added to that, was the fact that it was the mandatory rest day tomorrow and she felt somewhat obligated to make sure that she didn't work then herself. There wasn't any point in ordering everyone else to rest, stating over and over how important it was to take time off, and then not do the same herself. So, not unlike a student rushing a paper, she was staying up late the night before in order to cram everything in.

She was almost done with the "paper" at least, and even her meeting with Woolsey had gone well when he had returned from Athos. There weren't any major worrying extra points to be discussed over the marriage contract, other than some technical issues that she was going to fortunately pass along to the IOA to decide upon.

She glanced at her tablet, her eyes falling on her email account. It was stupid, because the IOA couldn't email in. There had been a short burst communication earlier today through the Gate, which had simply held confirmation from the SGC and Earth Defence that they had received and understood the reports sent back to Earth, and they had reported that the IOA would meet urgently to discuss the new contract.

If Sam knew the way politics ran, she suspected she wouldn't hear anything for days. They would all sit around and discuss it endlessly first, arguing, forming another committee maybe, and then, at the very end, they would decide on whether she got to keep her job.

In truth that was hardly the main concern for her. She knew without doubt that she wouldn't lose her place fighting for Earth, it was just whether she would stay in charge of Atlantis. She knew well enough there were those among the IOA who were against her remaining in charge, some feeling her too military and others feeling that she was too much of a scientist. In this role, you were never right for everyone. It was just whether this would be the opportunity for some to force some changes for their own political reasons.

Her own future in Atlantis aside, the real point that kept her nervously working tonight was the fear that the IOA might not honour the new political contract. As much as she had had to tell John off yesterday, she did in fact completely agree with him. This was perhaps going to be the best chance they had to fulfil this expedition's mandate – to find new technologies, allies, and weaponry to help defend Earth's interests. In the ongoing battle against the Wraith, it was the Alliance, and especially the Elite, who were literally leading the battle. Working with them, side by side, was likely to be the only way to make a real change in Pegasus.

There would be plenty of fears over that prospect back home, but hopefully the IOA would see the value in the contract. This way they could trade with the Alliance and the Elite without getting too deeply involved in Alliance politics. She needed to keep Atlantis as neutral as possible among the members of the Alliance High Council especially, but siding with the Elite and Athos probably had already stepped over some lines for some in the Alliance. The contract might bring more allies and technology than ever before, but it would probably also make them some new enemies.

Sighing at her turning thoughts, she tapped awake her second tablet and called up the latest search results into the Ancient Database. John's report, sent back through Woolsey, about a new style of metal hulled Wraith ships was worrying, but so far they hadn't been able to find any reference to such tech in the Ancient Database.

She had hoped to have something to provide back to the Elite, to get the exchange of intell moving right away, but had had no luck so far. Though, Woolsey had reported back from Torren that, as expected, the Elite were very interested in trading on the retrovirus. The Elite wanted access to it, which presented a slight dilemma for Sam.

The retrovirus was probably their only real unique weapon against the Wraith, but that said, work on it had stalled some time ago. Carson had grown frustrated with it, and she had ordered him off the work for awhile. Even the Elite's own Iketani had only been able to advance the retrovirus a little during her incarceration of Carson. He had felt that it had been Iketani' familiarity with Wraith biology that had made the difference. She had even kept several Wraith in her underground bunker for fresh samples. They didn't have that, and there was no way Carter was going to hold Wraith in the city.

However, the Elite could probably easily capture Wraith for samples...

It could help them advance the work, and working with scientists from across the Alliance could not only advance the retrovirus, but actually turn it into a workable weapon. The scientist in her said to go for it wholeheartedly, but the Colonel and City Commander in her told her to keep control of it.

However, the truth was that the research was stalled, so fresh insight, technology, and research would be invaluable. So, the point wouldn't be withholding it, it would be keeping control of it. If the Elite took it and used the retrovirus too early in its research it might provide the Wraith time to counteract the retrovirus, then Atlantis would have lost its only advantage against the Wraith. Therefore, Sam suspected the best way forward would be to invite the Alliance/Elite scientists to Atlantis and work on it together here. Colonel Sumner hadn't been keen on that option, but he'd seen the reasoning behind it.

After much debate with him and Woolsey earlier, she had drafted a report to the IOA on the suggestion, setting out clearly the positives involved and how potential issues could be addressed. She had also made it clear in her report that Torren had agreed with Woolsey to allow Atlantis scientists in to see some of Athos' Ancient tech, including their massive Gateway at Tjaru.

Actual sharing of weapons technology might take longer, but in return for the retrovirus, and helping in organised defence against the Wraith, the Elite might be willing to share their technology.

If it worked, it would be brilliant.

It was the risk that was the worry, but wasn't it always.

She knew she had tried to oversell much of it in the report, Jack would tell her as much. She glanced over to his photo by her desk. She missed him every day, but it was these quiet evenings when she worked alone in her office that she really wished he was here. Not just to advise her, make her laugh with his comments and suggestions of what to actually tell the IOA, but also for his touch, his hugs. So many times she had written reports on the sofa, tucked up against his side.

They were a strange couple, both of them agreed, who spent more time apart than they did together, but they had the same ideals. They were working for something bigger than themselves. Plus, she had no doubt that she would be reassigned home at some point soon – the IOA wouldn't keep her here for years more. She was simply covering a watch after the loss of Elizabeth. At that time the IOA had liked the idea of a military scientist – she had been a good sell to both sides, as Jack had put it. Well, he had put it more suggestively than that.

She smiled at his photo, at him smiling out. Daniel had taken the photo during one of their rare group fishing trips, and she knew that she had been sitting only inches away from Jack when that picture had been taken. In the picture, Jack was smiling at Daniel and his camera with that wonderful open, yet faintly mocking way he had, like he saw some wonderful underlying joke to life. It had been a wonderful fishing trip that one, one Jack planned to repeat next summer. She had promised to be there, had booked off the time in her Atlantis diary, but the truth was they both knew she might not make it there, not because of anything morbid, though that was always a possibility, but because life in Atlantis was inherently unpredictable.

Well, at least tomorrow would be good for the city. Minimal staff were on duty and no teams were out in the field back and none would be sent out. It should be a good relaxing day for everyone. It was about time this city had a break; everyone needed some time off, even if it was just a single day.

Drawing her eyes away from Jack and the memories of a lovely fishing trip, she opened up her email and found it absent of anything new. Good. At this rate, she really could take a day off herself.

There was just one more small piece of business she needed to complete before she could willingly turn in for the night and enjoy her own day off tomorrow. She shut down her tablets and headed out of her office, with one last glance towards the photos of her old team.

She said goodnight to the crew on duty in the Control Room as she passed through, and slowly made her way down through the tower in her own time. She loved this city. It didn't have the deep quiet that she had loved at the SGC, but it was beautiful. If Jack were here then she would call it perfect. Well, the threat of a Wraith attack aside.

The Infirmary was quiet tonight as she entered, but there were still a few people in the beds. One was coughing, a victim of a nasty alien pneumonia that a team had picked up during an off world mission. She smiled sympathetically at the Captain in question, who returned a thumbs up to Sam, all while still coughing. The Captain was the last of her team to display the symptoms and Carson had reported that she was "out of the woods" now.

Two other beds held sleeping patients. One had a broken femur following a mission that had involved a rioting group thinking they were Wraith worshippers or Alliance warmongers. The locals hadn't seemed to care which, just intent to chase off Carter's team. Fortunately, the broken leg was the only injury, but the poor Lieutenant was stuck in the Infirmary for a good few days. The other bed held a sleeping member from one of Rodney's teams who had fallen and hit his head yesterday while part of the teams cataloguing the unknown ancient rooms throughout the city.

Carter moved on, a nurse indicating which direction to find the Doctor.

She found Carson sat to one side working away on a chart. His coat was always the sharpest white, regardless as to how many washes and splashes of various fluids it had to have encountered over the years. Carson looked up and round with that look Carter knew well among doctors – it said "what now?" laced with a sense of tired frustration, but combined with a deep eagerness to help others. Seeing the expression brought back so many memories of Janet Fraiser that the aching pain of missing Jack only intensified. Losing Janet had been one of Sam's darkest days, only surpassed by losing Dad.

Carson smiled as he recognised her and the fact that no patient was apparently inbound. "Hallo, Colonel," he smiled in greeting.

"Hello, Carson," she smiled back. "Do you have a free second? I need to pass something by you before I send my next report to the IOA."

"Of course," he agreed immediately, as he always did. He was always patient, always willing to help, just like a brilliant doctor should be. If she didn't already know he had his rest day tomorrow booked to go fishing, she would have made it her personal mission to ensure he actually did rest tomorrow. But, instead he was choosing to go fishing with Rodney – madness, in her opinion, but the two were friends. How Rodney managed to keep that friendship, and a relationship with Katy Brown going, was anybody's guess.

"Shall we go to my office? I'm just waiting on some scan and blood tests on Doctors Hewston and Watson. They had a little run in with an Ancient device down in the new sections of the city," Carson said.

"What?" Sam stopped in turning towards Carson's office. "When was this? I wasn't informed."

"About half an hour ago, I thought it had been reported," Carson replied. "They came straight up here and we've run full scans and some bloods. The scans look fine, but we're just waiting for the blood work to come through."

"So they're okay?"

"They seem fine," Carson replied. "They turned on a device by accident and it emitted an unknown form of radiation, but they deactivated it right away and no harm seems to have been done. I doubt much will come up on the blood tests, but we'll keep an eye on them for a day or so."

Sam looked away worriedly towards the area near the Ancient scanner, an area of the Infirmary she hadn't been able to see when she had walked in. She had seen what radiation could do to someone. Memories of what Daniel had gone through still haunted her some nights, usually accompanied with the dreaded fear that when she woke up she'd find that he hadn't truly come back, that he was still lost.

"Radiation poisoning doesn't always show right away," she uttered unnecessarily to Carson.

"I know, but the scans of the device and the lab in question are completely clean. We'll keep an eye on them," he promised.

"I'm sorry, Carson," she smiled apologetically at him. "I don't mean to tell you your job."

"You care about your people, there isn't anything wrong with that," he said softly, his Scottish accent extending some sounds and sharpening others.

"Where are they?" Rodney's voice abruptly demanded from across the Infirmary.

"Oh God help me," Carson muttered as he gently pushed past her and headed towards where Sam could now see a bed-haired Rodney striding into the room, wrapped up in his dressing gown.

"What happened?" Rodney demanded.

"Everything is under control, Rodney," Carson placated him as he approached.

"I knew I should have been down there, but I can't be everywhere. Some people are off gallivanting with Alliance aliens, but some of us have to do the mundane work around here-"

"And of course _you're _the one to do the mundane work," Carson muttered.

Sam followed slowly, letting Rodney keep talking, which was usually the only way to get through most of his tirades, but also because Doctors Hewston and Watson were technically his staff. Rodney, of course, lost in his self important moment hadn't noticed her approaching.

Doctors Hewston and Watson were stood almost to attention near the scanner, looking sheepish yet also faintly annoyed as McKay descended upon them.

"You know, I think I am a pretty easy guy to work for," Rodney began. Sam saw Carson look over at her with a doubtful look that she returned. "I am usually too busy doing all the really important stuff to micromanage all the little things I need you people to be doing."

Sam noticed that Carson was studying a computer screen, which hopefully displayed the doctors' blood test results. She watched Carson smile at what he was reading, his posture alone telling her the doctors were okay. She sighed an inward breath of relief.

"Now," Rodney continued, "because of that, you have a fair amount of freedom." Sam crossed her arms and listened with interest. "That does not, however, mean you can do whatever the hell you please! There are rules!" Sam lifted her eyebrows at the great and often incongruent Dr Rodney McKay praising the rule book.

"There are protocols in place not only to protect this city, but your sorry little existences," he continued. Sam was actually a little impressed that Rodney appeared to be taking his position seriously to lecture his people, even if he wasn't going about it the right way.

"Look, if I can just say..." Dr Hewston tried to start, but Rodney shut her down quick.

"Oh no, you cannot," he interrupted her. "You cannot interrupt me. Okay, I was having a perfectly wonderful dream before I got this call, so you can just stand there and listen." Poor Dr Watson looked nervous and serious, but Dr Hewston appeared to be holding her tongue.

"You were sent on a routine cataloguing of one of the abandoned Ancient labs, and you activate some alien device without having the first clue what it was?" Rodney went on, which was highly ironic considering his own escapades with unknown technologies.

"We thought it was-" Dr Watson tried to explain.

"Yes. Well you thought wrong!" Rodney exclaimed.

"Yeah, but just the other week you did the exact same thing, so I don't-" Dr Hewston argued.

"But, I am _me_. If I make a mistake, _I_ can fix it," Rodney argued. Sam would have to have a word with him about dealing with his ego, but that would probably be like asking a shark to give up water.

"You are _you_," Rodney pointed at Dr Hewston, "and when you make mistakes, you don't have to fix them. I do."

Dr Hewston wasn't going to take that though. "The second we realised it was emitting radiation, we turned it off."

"So what?" Rodney asked arms out, "What? You want a medal?" Sam wondered if she should step in. "Look, my four year old niece could figure out how to turn something off if it was emitting radiation. That does not make you smart, that just makes you a little less stupid!" Rodney concluded.

Sam took a breath to interrupt, but Carson beat her to it. "Rodney, be nice," the doctor soothed as he turned away from his computer screen and approached Rodney's side.

"So," Rodney asked him, "are they gonna live? More importantly, can I go back to bed?" Sam shook her head in silence.

Carson let out a breath. "According to their body scans and blood tests, they'll be alright, yes. Although," he turned to the nearly irradiated doctors, "you should check back in the next 24 hours and we'll run some more tests, just to be certain."

"Well, you are lucky," Rodney jumped in. "Because, we are in a place where something as simple as flipping a switch can domino out into thousands of people dying. You need to be more careful." Sam was almost certain she had used the same argument with him several times in the past, but he was right and Sam could see both the doctors agreed. Fortunately, they had learnt their lesson without any horrific consequences.

Rodney finally seemed to hear himself and register their relief. "Okay, just take tomorrow off, alright?" He suggested foolishly.

"We already have tomorrow off. It's the mandatory rest day," Dr Hewston reminded him.

Sam could see the realisation hit him like a brick. "It is?" He asked worriedly. "Already?"

Carson stepped back and mimed casting a fishing rod and Sam smiled at Rodney's pained look. "Oh great," he muttered as he turned away, at which point he finally noticed her.

He pulled up short, looking abruptly overly self-conscious. "How long have you been standing there?" He demanded.

"Long enough, McKay," she replied. She glanced over to Doctors Hewston and Watson, who also looked embarrassed at seeing her as they slipped away.

"Well, I was just," Rodney gestured back to where he had been standing, "rallying the troops."

"That was some rally," Sam replied. "Some of it sounded awfully familiar too," she teased.

"I don't know why," Rodney took instant offensive. "I do have some leadership skills...sometimes."

"I think you made your point very well," Sam conceded.

"If not somewhat dramatically," Carson added as he joined them. "You wanted to talk to me about something, Colonel?"

"Actually, McKay can listen in on this," she suggested and Rodney groaned.

"But, I was going to go back to my..."

"Dream?" Sam asked. "This won't take long. Woolsey came back from the latest discussion over our treaty with Athos and the Elite. One of the main points from the Elite is that they want in on our research into the retrovirus." She watched Carson's face, looking to his expressive face to tell her how he truly felt about the suggestion.

He frowned. "If being kidnapped by Iketani taught me anything, it was that the Alliance has access to some advanced technology and Wraith biological knowledge that would certainly be useful. As you know, my research has hit something of a brick wall," he said apologetically.

"So we hand it over to the Elite?" Rodney protested. "Who knows what they'll do with it."

"What can be done with it but attack the Wraith?" Carson asked him. "My research is going nowhere and, as ashamed as I am to say it, I can't do much more at the moment."

"There's no need to apologise, Carson," Sam told him. "We've all hit points in our research where the technology and understanding just hasn't caught up to where we need to take things."

"Speak for yourself," Rodney objected.

"How is that hyperspace drive for the Jumpers coming along?" She challenged him.

Rodney's expression lapsed into nervous defensiveness. "I'm...working on it. It was my idea in the first place."

"My suggestion to the IOA," Sam continued to Carson, "is that we invite the Elite researchers here, keep the retrovirus in the city, and share our knowledge here."

"A good idea, but once they see how it was put together, there's no reason why they can't replicate it themselves," Carson pointed out.

"I know, but at least for now it's our main bargaining chip. If you're happy to work with their scientists that is?" She checked.

He was already nodding. "I am, any help would be appreciated, and who knows maybe they can get it up and running quickly."

"It'll take them months to create their own version," Rodney put in his ten cents. "Even if they copied it right away. What are we getting in return for this?"

"Access to the Athosian Ancient sites and technology, and potentially Alliance defence weaponry," Sam informed him.

"What?! Really?" Rodney asked, suddenly on side with the whole idea. "When can I go visit the Tjaru Gateway?"

"I'll ask Woolsey to arrange the first dates to visit, but it may be a week or so away."

"But, we can get in to see it?" He checked.

"Yes, Rodney," she assured him.

"That is assuming the treaty stands," Carson noted.

"You mean if Sheppard doesn't muck it up somehow," Rodney interpreted. "He better not, I want to see inside that Gateway. We know it's active."

"I'm sure Torren is good for his word," Sam assured him. "For now all we can do is wait on the IOA's response and iron out the details of the contract in the meantime. Carson, will you keep me up-to-date with how Doctors Hewston and Watson are doing?"

"Of course," Carson promised.

"And have fun tomorrow," Sam added as she moved away. "Both of you," she added towards Rodney, who looked pained and more than a little sick at the idea.

0000000

The strange new Wraith creature looked even weirder to Seeal than she had expected.

Cut open, the inside looked vaguely Wraith-like, a living centre that looked like some sort of multi-armed dark blue slug-like thing, but its exterior was metallic. The metal appeared to be a part of the slug, as if it had grown the metal layers like a shell around itself. The long pipe-piercing claws she had seen before were actually the long sharp tips of its multiple of limbs. She could count eight of them from where she stood across the room from the dead thing.

The Elite techs had apparently been able to tell that the thing had powered itself from the heat within the hot water pipes and that it had grown from something far smaller. They had found that the metal layers on the thing had been assimilated from scrapings taken from the inside of the water pipes. The thing had literally chewed microscopic amounts of the inner lining of the pipes and grown its shell with the shavings of metal!

"I've never seen anything like this," one of the techs repeated from where the woman stood next to Ru, the Lead Engineer nodding as he frowned down at the slug thing.

Seeal itched at the back of her neck, her hair still slightly damp at the back. On the way here, she had been given a change of clothes, which meant that she was now dressed like the rest of the Elite crew – in dark loose trousers, a shirt and jacket. The colour coding on the uniform denoted her to be of the security division. Appropriate she supposed. It wasn't as if she fitted in anywhere else among the crew, and she was hardly an Elite.

The crew style boots were heavy and uncomfortable though, so she hadn't put them on. They were still sat by the wall where she had left them half an hour ago. Her own clothes and boots were drying in a laundry room, so tomorrow she would have her own clothes back, but until then she was stuck in the unfamiliar clothes. The extra thick warm socks were nice though.

"The genetic tests of the organic matter are similar to the Wraith organic tech we know, but different enough for it to be clear it is not the exact same species," the tech continued.

"Meaning?" Si asked.

"Most likely," the tech answered, "it's from the same original planet as the usual Wraith organic based tech. A genetic cousin, as it were."

"So from the same planet on which the Wraith evolved," the usually stern Seifer summarised.

"That would be our agreed assessment," the woman replied. "Further study is obviously required, to look at the genetic sequence in more detail."

Oneakka was stood to one side of the slug thing, and Seeal watched as he reached out and examined the darker blue fluid filled lines that ran like wires through the middle layer of the thing. Several had been cut, which was how the Elite had stopped the thing. She watched him trace one line through the creature, his hands nibble as he followed it through the gooey mess.

"Does it have a power source?" He asked.

"It seems to have some sort of gland that sits alongside its pulmonary system that acts like an organic power cell," the tech replied, reaching forward to point out the area to Oneakka.

"It grew fast," Si noted thoughtfully.

"If we are correct, it used the heat of the hot water to essentially germinate itself, but we suspect it also required sustenance from the algae and metal scrapings it took off the walls of the water pipes.

"Algae?" Seeal asked.

"It grows in the water, cleans it and helps keep the warmth," Ru explained.

"Don't you use this water for washing and drinking?" She asked. She had been swimming around in that water!

"The water used for such personal use is filtered," he assured her. "The algae is harmless to humans."

She frowned at that, but accepted it, grateful that she'd showered before she'd put on her new unfamiliar clothes. "How did the slug broadcast its hacking programme?" She asked the tech.

"We suspect that a system here," the woman pointed to near the top of the slug, "is the closest to a brain that we have found so far. We need to study it further, but it appears to act not unlike circuitry, and we believe the actual transmission was emitted from here." She pointed to part of the metal exterior where something close to small antennae stood out slightly from the thing's "head".

"Could it broadcast via subspace?" Seeal asked worriedly.

"We do not think so," the tech replied. "However, it is possible that if it grew larger, it might develop the ability to broadcast further."

"Can you surmise how much more it would develop?" Si asked.

The woman sighed. "We believe this is not unlike a newborn, it seems fully formed, with all the correct organs, but it could indeed grow larger. Considering the speed at which it grew, even during your battle with it, it is possible it could grow considerably larger."

"It displayed a basic level of intelligence in trying to avoid us," Si reported. "It held back from stunning us for some time, knowing that it would damage itself too in the water."

"But, you said its hacking programme was basic, old?" Seeal asked the tech.

"Very," she confirmed. "Which matches with some other findings. We were able to identify some foreign particles on the hull from the impact damage with the Seed ship." The term had even more meaning now they knew this slug thing had "germinated" inside the ship. "The readings on the metal indicate that they are thousands of years old."

"So this _is_ old Wraith tech then, and perhaps these," Seifer pointed to the slug, "are old weapons being brought back into commission."

"Or not Wraith at all?" Si considered.

"It looks Wraith," Seifer disagreed. "The Seed ship's underbelly did as well."

"Or that ship was a full grown version of this," Seeal suggested and all heads turned to her. "We assumed there were Wraith inside the ship, but what if it was a creature like this?"

"Neither Teyla or I detected a Wraith mental presence during the attack," Si considered. "Perhaps there were none and Seeal is correct."

"It may be an old weapon that was woken up," Seifer considered, "germinated on the base on the Arkinian system. Maybe it didn't find any Wraith it recognised, or perhaps it already hates the Wraith, so it attacked them. Perhaps simply defending its territory of Arkinian."

"Someone might still be controlling it," Oneakka put in, though his attention was still focused down on the slug. He was studying a pad that had been plugged into the slug's brain area.

"We've had no reports of anything like this in the Lantana system," Seifer said. "It might just be an anomaly; we only have evidence of the one Seed ship and this unusual creature. I suggest that we inform the research teams in Arkinian to watch for more of these things on the moon wreck, and we hand over this one to the Mad Moon once the mission is over, let the best study it. For now, we have a battle ahead tomorrow."

"Agreed," Oneakka replied, but his attention remained on the pad and the slug.

"I suggest we share what we have learnt with the rest of the Fleet when we arrive," Si added.

"When will we be back underway to Lantana, Ru?" Seifer asked.

Ru glanced round from where he had been studying the pad along with Oneakka. "My people are working on redirecting the water system. It should not be too long, but we first need to ensure that there are no more of these things in the water system."

Movement in the open doorway drew everyone's attention away from Ru. Seeal looked round to see that Numfar had returned with Major Sheppard in tow.

Sheppard stepped into the room, his attention immediately on the slug thing, his expressive face frowning with disgust. His hair appeared more spiked than usual, one side slightly flattened.

"Holy giant slug robot, Batman," Sheppard muttered as he approached. "What is it?"

"You've never seen anything like this before, Sheppard?" Oneakka asked him.

Sheppard shook his head as he moved closer to the slug, at which point Seeal realised that Emmagan's dragon pet was with him for some reason. The creature followed him to the table and lifted its pointed snout to the edge of the table.

A growl rolled up from the dragon and the long thin spines down its long neck shifted loudly, like a rustling warning.

"Ketra thinks its Wraith," Seifer noted.

Sheppard dropped a hand to Ketra's head as he kept peering at the slug. "It's dead, Ketra," he assured her. "Right?" He asked Ru quickly, holding still.

"It's dead," Ru confirmed.

"It's Wraith tech?" Sheppard asked.

"Perhaps very old tech, or not Wraith at all," Si replied.

"You've not heard of anything like this from Atlantis?" Oneakka repeated, which explained by Sheppard had been brought in here in the first place.

"No," Sheppard replied. "This looks more like an Iratus bug to me," Sheppard shivered and stepped back.

"Iratus?" Seeal asked.

"The bug that first merged with human DNA to create the Wraith," Sheppard replied as he stepped back further from the "robot slug", Ketra at his side.

Seeal frowned at the dragon – from what she had seen and heard about the Athosian pet, it tended not to follow anyone around except Emmagan. Seeal frowned thoughtfully at Sheppard – it made you wonder how close Sheppard and Elite Emmagan had actually gotten before their marriage...

"Iratus," Seeal tried the word again.

"The insects still exist on the original planet of the Wraith," Oneakka informed her.

Seeal hadn't known that. "Really?" She asked him. "Maybe the Wraith are experimenting with their own genetics to create new things," she gestured to the robot.

"The Iratus planet is now within our territory, as of this year," Oneakka reported.

"On purpose, presumably," she checked.

He nodded.

"Couldn't have done that sooner," Sheppard muttered. "Would have made my life a whole lot easier."

Seeal frowned at him, but he shook his head, clearly unwilling to expand on that comment. She had noticed he muttered to himself a lot, and often about things that made no sense to her. She wondered if it was a trait of his people, or just him.

"So, this was what was left behind when the Seed ship tried to gut us?" He checked.

"Got into the hot water pipes near the outer hull, germinated in the heat and grew into this," Seeal summarised for him. "I told you it didn't make sense."

Sheppard smiled at her and then frowned. "There's only one, right?" He asked worriedly.

"We are scanning all the pipes," Seifer replied. "If there are any more, we will find them."

"Great, find them quick," Sheppard suggested and Seeal smiled, sharing the sentiment.

Something drew Seeal's attention downwards and she found that Ketra was looking at her with interest. Seeal smiled slightly cautiously at the dragon and turned her attention quickly back to the robot slug. Why did it feel like the dragon was a part of the discussion? It was just a pet.

"Can I see the hacking programme it used?" She asked.

"No," Seifer answered.

"Here," Si passed her a pad. "She is the one that found the creature," he argued to Seifer.

"That seems to be a habit of hers," Seifer replied. "Finding herself in the heart of trouble, just where she happens to be needed."

"Many would say the same of us," Oneakka noted.

Seeal looked up from the pad.

"You're defending me?" She asked Oneakka. "Wow, times change," she smiled teasingly before looking back down at the pad displaying the slug's computer hack coding. "This is primitive," she stated after a split second. "I mean really basic. This is the most basic code a hacker can ever use. Whoever wrote this barely knew what they were doing with computers. No Wraith wrote this. This is how you would teach children to code."

"Children?" Oneakka asked.

"I don't teach children how to hack," she insisted quickly. "But, if I did, this is how I would start. This is like learning the alphabet to write."

She saw the tech nodding. "Primitive and basic," the woman agreed with Seeal.

"It's almost as if it's as old as the metal scrapings," Seeal considered. "Maybe this thing is from a very long time ago." She considered the robot slug again.

"As in from the time of the Ancestors?" Sheppard asked.

"Older. Early days of the Wraith kind of time."

"Long time ago," Sheppard agreed with weight. "Where'd it come from?"

"Possibly from the base we found in the Arkinian system," Si replied. "Perhaps not."

"From what we saw, the Seed ship seemed to arrive out of nowhere," Sheppard considered. "It could have jumped in from somewhere else in the system, but nothing else was picked up on the feeds, right?" Si nodded.

"Or it had some sort of cloaking ability," Seeal considered. All eyes turned on her. "Some people are working on that," she defended her seemingly outrageous theory. Invisible cloaking fields were the holy target of almost all technology specialists. There had been plenty on Dreamstation trying to think up how to do it – none had yet come close.

"What people?" Oneakka demanded.

"I'll make a note," she promised.

"Right away," he ordered.

"I said I would give you all the information I have," she reminded him.

"Information on people developing technology that could make them invisible should be at the very top of your list," he replied.

"You said Iketani was at the very top of my list."

"Cloaking technology is a close second," he retaliated instantly.

"Make up your mind," she replied, "and I'll try to keep up. Besides, they're nowhere near close to developing the technology practically."

"Note it down anyway," he stressed.

"Since you asked so nicely," she offered back with a sarcastic smile.

"If we could focus back on the organic-robot for a moment," Si interrupted them. "How do we ensure that are no more of these onboard? We cannot risk entering hyperspace if there are more of these in the ship."

"We thoroughly decontaminated the areas around the impact area, and I have them repeating the same now," Ru reported. "This creature got into the water system through a tiny breach. If there are any more of these, the water is the only place they could be."

"And probably the only place with enough energy in the form of heat to germinate," the tech considered.

Tyoosi strode into the room. "The damaged Hot Water Regulation Chamber has been sterilised and cleaned," he reported. "No evidence of any further creatures has been found. The second sweep of the impacted areas are also clean. All the crew are working on searching and scanning the ship, if there are any more of those things on the ship, we will find them."

"If we assume then that the water is the only place left for them to hide and travel through the ship and germinate," Ru pondered out loud. "We could cool the water, and the heat readings emitted by the creatures will stand out in the pipes."

"That could take ages," Seeal put in. "And if there's tons of them and they all decide to break free like that one did? Poison through the water would be quicker."

"Put something in the water that will poison them?" Si asked. "We need the water for the hydroponics bay and personal use; we cannot contaminate our own water."

"Find something quickly that's safe for us, but dangerous to them," she clarified the obvious. "Or something that will show them up. Something that binds with the creatures and shows up on a scan."

"I have an idea," Ru announced abruptly. "A safe radioactive isotope flooded through the water system will show up everything in the water, even if it is too small for the eye. We can scan all the ship and quickly pick up any abnormal collection of the isotopes that will have attached to the creatures."

"Do it," Oneakka ordered. "Quickly."

Ru nodded and pushed his way out of the room.

"How long will it take?" Seifer asked the tech left behind.

She pondered her answer for a moment before answering. "We'll have to create enough of the isotope first and then allow it to flood through the system, then the scans, and dealing with the creatures if any are found...perhaps four or five hours to be safe?"

Seifer sighed. "We will be late reaching Lantana."

"The meeting is waiting our arrival," Si replied. "Enough hours are built into the plan." The big man glanced around the room. "I suggest that those not on rotation retire to sleep. Emmagan is in Central Station, I will oversee the isotope search, while Halling and Nalla are already with the search teams. I suggest you two should retire."

Seifer muttered something that Seeal didn't make out, but Oneakka was nodding next to him.

Beside her, Sheppard was nodding, his attention still on the slug robot. Seeal glanced down to his side, where the dragon was sat, leaning against his leg and looking up at him intently.

Seeal considered the man as the others began leaving, talking, planning. Sheppard was a handsome man sure enough, not that he was her type; she preferred more rugged men with a stronger wider build. But, she could see that he had a way about him that enamoured people to him, female or otherwise. Even Wraith-hunting Athosian dragons. She wondered how he did it.

Even she, barely knowing him more than a day, liked the man. There was something about him that just was...likeable. It was a skill that she had seen in others before and it had always confused her. How did people like him do it? How had he ingratiated himself with the Elite crew so quickly? So easily? She didn't trust anyone, but even she felt comfortable and at ease stood beside him.

The dragon glanced up at her. Seeal shifted her attention down to the almost frowning look around the orange-eyed dragon glare.

She quickly looked away. She'd heard plenty of stories about Ketra's species.

Which brought her attention to another unique species – Oneakka was heading towards her.

"Come with me," he ordered as he passed by her, heading towards the exit.

Sighing grumpily, she followed. "You could ask nicely," she objected as she moved towards the open doorway with him, leaving Sheppard, and Ketra, with Si and Tyoosi.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she pointed out to the back of Oneakka's shoulder. "I didn't hurt anyone, in fact I, yet again, helped _save_ the ship."

How many times was she going to have to help this stubborn piece of oafish Elite before he admitted she was useful?

"I didn't say otherwise," Oneakka replied over his shoulder as they exited the lab, only he pulled up short and she had to stop quickly to save herself slamming into his back. He frowned down at her socked feet. "Boots?" He asked.

"I don't want them," she explained.

"You need them," he insisted.

"Mine will be dry by the morning," she reminded him.

"And if we are attacked in the night and you need to move around the ship?" He asked.

"I can walk and run without boots."

He looked at her, those strangely unique blue eyes holding her own gaze with a determination that told her that he would stay here all night until she complied.

She sighed loudly and returned into the room. She grabbed the boots, the heavily awkward military boots, and headed back into the corridor. "Happy now?" She asked as she held them up.

He looked down at her feet pointedly.

"My feet are too warm right now," she made up in an instance.

He seemed to accept that for some reason, as he turned away and continued down the corridor.

She followed him, frowning down at the military boots in her hand with disgust. They were heavy and the laces danced around them. Too many had worn such boots during pit fights, using the heavy heel and thick toes for kicks and stamps. She had worn similar herself back then, but they were too military, too warm and heavy for her use now. They would only slow her down.

Tiredness lingered at her mind and body as she followed Oneakka. "What do you want?" She asked. "I promise to note down the cloaking people and others with similar possible advanced tech, but I'm tired, and since I'm still damp from our swim in the Hot Water Chamber and I need to find somewhere new to sleep-"

"I've organised somewhere," he replied.

"I'm not sleeping in the barracks," she insisted quickly, lengthening her stride to get up alongside him. "I've told you that."

"You're not sleeping in the other Hot Water Regulation Chamber," he told her. "The techs are working in there and it could flood as well."

"I wasn't going to," she replied, though the thought hadn't really occurred to her either way.

He led the way into a transporter and she followed him in. As it moved upwards, she faced off towards his shoulder.

"There are plenty of empty storage rooms on the ship," she told him. "Point me towards one."

"Two floors are partly flooded," he told her, glancing at her as he led the way out of the transporter onto a new floor. "You want to sleep on a wet floor? The rest of the lower levels are going to have techs pouring over them. You need to sleep on the personnel levels. Like everyone else."

"Fine, I'll find an empty room," she replied.

"There are none, every space is accounted for. Your choices are to sleep in one of the three barracks that have spare beds, to sleep in the brig," he glanced at her with a slight smile to remind her that she had spent a few nights in that small room before, "or here. The choice is yours," he had stopped outside a door and now tapped a code into a small retrofitted panel set alongside the door, which slid open.

He stepped inside and she followed, not liking that there was a code panel locking the room shut – was he putting her in a vault or an equivalent to the brig?

He tapped another code into a panel inside the door and continued in. She followed suspiciously as the room opened up ahead. He stepped aside, revealing a makeshift barrack bed set into the corner of the room. It looked like it had just recently been put there, because a piece of furniture had clearly been pushed aside against the far wall to make way for the bed.

"You can sleep in the barracks," he told her, "anyone else would, but you don't trust anyone to sleep in the same room." She had confessed that to him.

This was someone's quarters.

She stepped forward, looking around him to see the rest of a very full room. Half of a wall was covered with cubed shelving, which was crammed with items that looked either out of a museum or a temple. Books and scrolls were stacked almost knee high by the shelving, beside a large bed, and across the floor. A large thickly woven rug filled the space from the end of the bed to two small tables, one of which was almost entirely covered in pieces of tech, which looked newly retrofitted, like the panel outside. Tools, pads, and coils of wire and circuits covered most of the surface of the other table, all contained in clear boxes that were stacked to the point of collapse. Only two chairs stood around the first table, and one of them was covered with books and pads. On the wall behind the table, a variety of weapons sat in secure holdings, displayed, but ready to be pulled free.

She recognised two long sheathed knives.

"These are your quarters?" She asked in disbelief.

She would never have expected something like this. She had trouble imaging him sleeping, let alone having 'interests', of which reading appeared to be a major component. She had thought he would probably live in a small empty room, just full of weapons and perhaps one change of clothes.

She glanced back to the large bed. There was a grey shirt lying at its corner. A usual everyday shirt, like he was a normal person...like the one he had worn the other evening.

"The only place left for you is to sleep in the barracks," he told her. "You won't sleep in there because you don't trust them and they don't like you-"

"I don't care what people think," she objected.

He moved away from her, moving further into his home, across the rug, past books and stacks of scrolls. He drew his stunners and one small knife from his holsters and laid them on the side, just in front of the shelving. As he straightened up he absently reached up and touched his fingers to something in the central most cube. She angled her head to see what it was, but he stepped in the way, his large bare, muscled arms crossing in front of his wide chest.

"I choose not to share a room with people I don't trust," she reminded him.

"Would you prefer to share a room with someone else?" He asked. "Do you trust anyone?"

"You think I trust you?" She asked.

"Yes," he answered simply.

She wanted to argue, but it was true; she did trust him. Perhaps out of the entire Alliance, if she had to be at someone's side, someone who she knew would adequately watch her back if the situation required it, she would choose him.

She had no idea how that had happened.

Not so long ago they had fought each other in hand-to-hand combat and she had ended up running from him in panic. The thought of running into him again at that time had filled her with real fear. Now, she was contemplating sharing a room with him.

Life was very strange.

Yet, she knew where she stood with him, because he would tell her, frankly. He had promised her that she would be safe on the ship, and she believed him. She had made her deal with the Elite mainly through him, because she knew he respected the fact that she had saved his life...and hadn't he saved hers in turn? He had shown her a life in which she saw she could have value again – that she could do good and try for redemption.

She looked at the waiting spare bed. It was a proper bed. It had been days since she had slept on a proper bed. She suspected the Elite gave even the lowest of their crew good bedding to sleep in. She would be across the large room from him, the tables between her and him, the rug a wide space, putting aside his columns of books.

She would feel safe in here.

She frowned at one point though.

"I can't sleep in here," she reiterated. "People will get the wrong idea."

"I thought you didn't care what people thought?" He asked, challenged really.

Damn it.

She glanced back to the spare bed.

"I had them put up one of the dividing curtains," he added.

She glanced across to the far wall beyond the bed where she could see a long curtain gathered against the wall near his weapons. Most Alliance quarters had a dividing curtain that hung from ceiling to floor, which separated a living area from a sleeping area. She moved towards it, past the bed and pulled the curtain partly out to look at it.

"This is sheer," she noted suspiciously.

He moved forward a step towards the curtain. "I don't know about textiles."

"Sheer," she explained. "Transparent. Like a cloaking field," she threw in.

He looked at the curtain, his expression unreadable. "If it was you wouldn't be able to see it," he pointed out. "This is blue."

She frowned at him – was he being deliberately obtuse? "A blue curtain that is so thin you can see through it."

He pulled the curtain out further from the wall and thicker material came into view – it was only partly sheer. Still, it would not been a proper divide, he would be able to see through to her sleeping. "Change it if you want," he met her gaze.

She held his gaze. A strange thought occurred to her - had he done it on purpose? Or had he not thought about it? Maybe he hadn't even chosen the curtain himself. Why was it even important?

"Its fine," she decided, not wanting to admit it was an issue, because it wasn't. Was it?

"The washroom is through that door," he indicated the one doorway off the main room. "There are spare towels in the cupboard by the door."

He had spare towels? Oneakka?

She glanced towards the closed door, then back around his room again.

"What?" He asked into the silent pause.

"Nothing," she lied. "It just appears...it's not what I expected," she admitted.

"What did you expect?" He asked as he sat down at the larger table, picked up a piece of tech and began fiddling with it.

"Maybe a concrete cell," she replied. "A single pallet on the floor on which you sleep in one fixed position, fully armoured even when asleep," she put her boots down by the end of the bed that she had accepted for the time being. "Why do you have so many books?" She asked.

"I like to learn," he answered absently, all his attention on the tech he was tinkering with.

"I meant why read physical books," she clarified. "I thought all information was uploaded into the Alliance central database," she asked as she moved away, glancing over the stacks of books, crouching down to look at the labels. There were a couple that were titled in a language she couldn't read, but the others were close enough to standard Alliance that she could tell what they were about. One was on scans and dissections of human brains and another on code breaking. She picked up the code breaking one and leafed through its pages.

"Not all information is on pad," he replied. "Many Alliance worlds still print books, some still use scrolls."

"I know that," she replied absently as she ran her eye over the details in the book. It smelt faintly of soldering smoke. There were random twisted pieces of wire marking places throughout the book – twisted off-cuts from something he had been working on. She glanced at the littered table at which he sat. Coils of varying wires, plastic boxes of circuit pieces and dissected tech seemed chaotically scattered across the larger table, but as he reached for a tool he found it with his hand without looking round to locate it on the table.

"I just assumed the Elite were into the electronic information only," she told him as she watched him insert the fine tool into the middle of the bulk of tech in his hand.

She put the code breaking book back down in its former stack, making sure it was in the same place as before, and moved on to another stack. "What is this other language? You have a lot of them," she asked, glancing over several more stacks.

"Ugun," he replied. "From my homeworld."

She snapped her head round towards him.

She didn't know what to say.

Everyone knew what had happened to the Ugun world. The planet had been decimated by the Wraith, a powerful Queen deciding it would be the perfect place for her new base as she fought the growingly powerful Alliance.

"I've heard the stories about what happened there. How many of your people survived?" She asked.

He looked up from his work. "Just one," he stated without any emotional inflection and returned his attention back down to his tinkering.

He was the last of his people?

People always told stories of races who had been obliterated by the Wraith, with a lone survivor or two remaining to tell the tales. That was until they died and no one was left to tell the tales anymore. She had never quite believed in lone survivors – too many people left their home planets through the portal system.

"No others?" She asked. "Surely some were off world at the time."

"No," he replied. "My people stayed on their world, traders came to them. I was the only one of my people to leave." He picked up another tool. "Like you," he commented.

"I was chased off mine with flaming torches and pitchforks, that's hardly the same," she replied as she wandered over to the table at which he sat. "Besides, Ulfur left as well."

"And now he's back there," Oneakka set down one tool and picked up another. She got the impression from his tone and overly focused tinkering, as well as the lack of his usual battling comments, that this was a delicate subject. How could it not be? All his people were gone?

His usual grumpy attitude took on a slightly different edge for her now.

She wasn't sure what else to say about the subject. She glanced back across the room towards the overly crowded cubed shelving – all those items, were they the remains of his people's culture? The last of his family's things perhaps?

She returned her gaze to Oneakka, feeling something new and strange stirring in her chest. He was big and strong, and hadn't shown any emotion in his voice when he had talked about being the last of his people...but something inside her chest kind of broke for him. She had never had a loving family, didn't know what that was like, but she had seen people with them. Had he had a family who had lovingly waved him off to become an Elite warrior? Or had he always been this stubborn headed, determined male who had simply stomped off to become the powerful Elite he now was?

If he hadn't left, he would be dead along with the rest of his people.

She ran her eye over the broken pieces of tech littering the table before him, feeling awkward. One small piece of tech in particular caught her eye...she had never seen this type, but she had seen blueprints. She reached out and turned it over to see that its back had been opened and wires disappeared into another component, she turned that over as well.

"Whether Ulfur," she continued on their previous conversation, "actually had the nerve to rejoin our people and stayed i- is this an Arian retinal scanner patched into a Genii sequence de-scrambler?" She asked in disbelief.

He nodded. She picked up the assemblage only to find that the wires continued on into a pad. Frowning, she picked up the pad and touched it to life.

"This is a literary pad," she identified it. "For reading, and you've patched it into the de-scrambler and scanner?" There was only one conclusion to such an assembly. She looked at Oneakka with a new curiosity. "These retinal scanners are closely guarded, only used in high level security on Aria." Oneakka nodded silently again.

She decided not to ask how he happened to have one in his bedroom; presumably the Elite could have anything they wanted.

"And you've patched it into a hacker's trick combo," she continued. "Is there a reason why you're trying to hack into Arian security retinal scanners?"

He finally lifted his blue eyes up from his work to meet her gaze. "To see if it can be done," he replied. "To stop people like you."

She frowned at him and his logic. "You're testing the tech?" He nodded. "Not working out a way to override it yourself, of course."

He looked down at the tech in her hand and then back to his own work without another word.

Interesting.

She had heard all the usual stories about the Elite that there were no locked doors to them in the Alliance. She hadn't considered that perhaps those locked doors were unlocked for them not by their status, but by the fact that they simply broke in where they liked. Who was going to prosecute an Elite for breaking in? Now she thought about it, it was very much Oneakka's way of thinking. Look at what had happened with Toshka's computer core.

Still, working out how to break into the highest level of security in the Alliance, into the Alliance ruling buildings, seemed excessive even for an Elite. Unless he didn't trust those in power.

She looked back down at the assemblage.

Was this an insight into the Elite's attitude in general towards those in power of the Alliance, or just Oneakka's?

She itched to study the retinal scanner. They were said to be the most advanced, not just in precision scanning and data comparison, but were supposed to be unhackable. In was a fascinating challenge.

"The scanner, even through the de-scrambler, won't talk with the pad," she informed him.

"I've wired in a Litan translator circuit," he replied.

She frowned down at the wiring again. She moved to sit down on the second chair at the table, only to remember that it was covered in books and pads. She picked up the stack and set it down on the floor, ignoring Oneakka's frown across the table as she sat down, her attention focused on the wiring that she teased apart.

"There's no way that will work," she told him, but the wiring looked good, the translator one of the latest models that she hadn't had a chance to tinker with herself yet. "Did you add additional processing into the pad?" She asked as she peered at the open back of the flat tech. He had put in an extra processor, not that there was enough space for it. He'd held it in place with some more twisted off-cut pieces of wire.

"You should use tape, not wire to keep extra pieces in place," she informed him. "Unless you want to get electrocuted," she smiled across the table at him.

"Ran out," he replied.

She cast her eye over the table and its multitude of bits and pieces. If he had run out, then it had to have been recently because she had seen how well stocked the Sythus' stores were. Which meant that he must have put this together today, or late yesterday, or he would have restocked on installation tape.

"Do you sit up late at night making these things?" She asked as she turned on the pad.

"It's a hobby," he replied, his tone more relaxed to her ear now.

"It still won't work," she told him across the littered table. "You'll need a re-sequencer programme that will handle the scrambled input."

"Several already loaded," he replied. "Haven't tried them yet."

She opened up a list of programmes on the pad and three sequencer programmes appeared. He had downloaded them earlier today by the times listed next to them.

"The first two won't work," she informed him with her wealth of experience. "The third might work, but you'll need to rework the code."

She tapped open the programme and opened up its base coding.

"Good thing you've got an expert code writer available," she smiled as she tapped through the coding. "Not that it's going to work," she muttered absently. It was interesting challenge though.

She leant her elbows on the table, the room falling silent.

Maybe if she plugged the pad into the re-scrambler itself...

00000000  
TBC


	35. Ennui

00000

**Chapter 35 – Ennui**

It had felt like a very long night for Teyla, but the Sythus was once again underway to the Lantana system. Twice now the ship had had to hang in the emptiness of space, waiting for repairs in order to continue on with the mission. Repairs were hardly new for the Sythus, but the cause of the damage was entirely new.

The night watch in Central Station was usually a quiet affair, but tonight had been busy. With repeat scans of the entire ship and detailed analysis of the water supply, Ru and his engineers had been working through the night. The repaired impact site within the ship had once again been decontaminated, though this time over an even wider area, and Nalla had once again walked the ship, reaching out with her own skills to detect anything new with a basic emotional intelligence that might be in the ship.

However, for all that work, nothing had been found. The news should reassure Teyla, but instead it worried her somewhat. Her eyes slid away from the latest reports from the Outer Lantana battle to the display of the new creature. The strange inner blue body and long metal coated limbs were new, with the exception of its similarity to the Iratus bug. John had apparently noted that fact, but his own people had not seen anything like this before. The dating of the metal fragments left on the hull by the former Seed ship dated the vessel to a millennia ago, which meant that the new creature and its tech might indeed be a primitive earlier form of Wraith tech. If that were the case, why had it gone unseen before now? Could it be that an ancient Hive was responsible which had been asleep until now, or was there something inherently unstable about this tech that had prevented its previous use? If this tech had been used back during the days of the Ancestors there were no records of it, and presumably the same could be said of Atlantis' records.

She wondered how much of the Ancestors' records John's people had studied in the Ancestral City. Could they have missed something important, or was the database incomplete? She imagined that since the Wraith were such a threat that those in Atlantis would have carefully read everything they could on the matter from the Ancestors' database.

As she pondered the image of the strange tech creature again, she wondered if she should ask John about the Atlantis database, though she knew there was no point; he would never withhold vital information.

He was not one to hold back, as his sudden and unauthorised appearance in Central Station earlier had again proven. Despite his presence being in contradiction to Tyoosi' protocol she had let John stay and none of the other Elite had objected. John had long since proven to the Elite that he was not a threat and that he could be of assistance. It had been John who had spotted the Seed ship's appearance in the Arkinian feeds, and he had openly entered into discussions with her fellow Elite. He was a confident man, yet was not in any way arrogant. She wondered how Maloo would have behaved in the same circumstances.

Not that Maloo would be here on the ship, and he certainly would not be sharing her quarters.

A niggle of annoyance still remained over John's insistence to share her quarters. No doubt his point behind the action was to make it clear to her that she could not ignore him, but for her it had instead served as a reminder that he would now forever be a constant in her life. It was highly ironic that such a state had begun just when she wished to see less of him. She had chosen John as her political husband for good reasons, but his presence also created a considerable amount of inner conflict for her, not the least of which was his invasion of her quarters.

During the planning for her Political Marriage, Father had mentioned much of this, including organising adjoining quarters in the Governing Complex of Tjaru. He had been overseeing the alterations and decorations of those new quarters, but Teyla had taken no interest. She recalled now how he had attempted to engage her in making decisions on the colour scheme and furniture for the new quarters, but she had had no interest in them. Once again, it was clear to her now that she had not fully engaged with the actual realities of her Political Marriage. Yet, perhaps that had been because she had known she could force her Elite will on a political husband. Maloo would have been unlikely to forcefully insist on such arrangements, and he certainly would have remained at a respectful distance.

John however...

It was clear to her now that he would as interested in their personal living arrangements as he would the political side of matters. He would not quietly live in the background of her life, working on his own people's matters without much involvement with her. That was not John's way, even if they had not been lovers before now.

He would push and press his presence in her life, insisting where he could and using his natural charm with others. She knew Father was pleased with John has her new husband, and Elkaska had clearly been delighted, no doubt due to the extensive trading connections he would now enjoy with Atlantis and Earth. Even the Elite here on the Sythus appeared pleased with the contract with Atlantis, and none had objected in the least to John's presence on the ship. If anything, he had slotted in with little notice, going so far as to be helpful in a crisis.

He clearly was the best of choices as her political husband, yet despite that fact she knew that she had made her own life more difficult in choosing him. Having someone around her so much, living so physically close to her, was going to be different. Even during her affair with John their shared time together had actually been quite short, the longest they had spent together had been overnight during her stay in Atlantis for the treaty talks. Now however, he was going to be a constant in her life, no doubt pushing forcefully on matters he believed in, regardless of arguing with an Elite warrior, and he would continue to be a distracting presence for her.

Maloo would never have been so difficult or distracting.

Her life had certainly been simpler before she had met John...

...But, perhaps, far less interesting.

Her mind turned unbidden to the moment when John had put his arm around her during the battle with the Seed ship. Stood just a few feet away from where she stood now at the tactical display, he had supported her as she had worked. It had been natural enough to accept that physical support at that time, but it had also been the most physical contact they had shared in weeks. The memory of the warmth of his arm, of the strength and caring behind his action worked like acid on the iron control she was keeping on her determination to keep a clear emotional distance from him.

If he hoped to entice romance back into their relationship, and his presence in her quarters was to facilitate such a mission, she found herself worrying at her own strength. Had she not only last night thought of joining him in the shower?

Not only was he going to be a challenge to her living arrangements, but it seemed that he was going to test the strength of her will as well. All those dangerous and challenging tests and military exercises during her recruit training days seemed far easier compared to this new test.

She should have selected Maloo...

A new report flagged up on the screen before her, drawing her attention back to the details of her work. The last of the tech crews had completed their analysis of the water samples and all the tiny pieces of debris that had been found in the water filters. They had found only tiny broken pieces of the Sythus' own hull and piping, so the Sythus was indeed clear. Nothing else alien had gotten into the Sythus...apart from John.

She smiled faintly at her own joke as she quickly pulled together a final report for the record, combining all of the data reports together and sending a copy on to the Training Facility. Hopefully this would mean that they could now focus on the vital mission ahead and that there would be no more unpredicted surprises.

With that hopeful thought, she became aware of someone entering Central Station from her left and she looked round to see Halling approaching, his face noticeably drawn and tired.

"I thought you had retired to bed?" She asked as he reached the tactical display. He had remained awake through most of the night working with the decontamination crews.

"After all that has happened and the mission, I could not sleep deeply enough," he replied as he rubbed a hand over his hair and then around the back of his neck. It was a nervous gesture of his that he employed only when greatly stressed.

"All of the scans are negative, there is no single piece of evidence suggesting that another one of those robots is onboard the Sythus," she reassured to him. Though had they not been sure there had been nothing left by the Seed ship before the robot had appeared?

Halling lent his hands on the side of the display table and sighed, his eyes scanning over all the screens. "I assume Ru's search of the water was thorough."

"Very, the isotope worked well," she replied. "It picked up other tiny pieces of debris that had been blocked by the filters that the robot had not damaged. All the tests have been negative for alien material," she reported.

"There should be sensors watching the filters," Halling noted, his tone harsher than usual. The subdued lighting in this section of Central Station made the dark circles under his eyes all the more apparent.

"There are sensors, but the filters often wear out and the algae clogs them up frequently enough that it has never been a cause for alarm before," she reasoned.

"It should from now on," Halling muttered.

Teyla frowned at her friend. "Are you well, Halling?" She asked more quietly so the question would not carry to other ears.

His eyes slid to her. "I am tired," he confessed with a strained smile and sigh. "This new tech is worrying," he added as he waved one hand towards the displays that showed both the Seed ship and the robot.

She nodded, but frowned at him, worried still. This was hardly the first time they had come up against difficult circumstances. In fact, wading into unpredictable trouble was almost normal for her and her fellow Elite. It did not seem to explain his drawn appearance.

"We have another hour or so until we reach Lantana," she noted. "Once there it will be a short trip to the rendezvous point, so you have time to try to sleep some more."

He was already shaking his head, forcefully so, as if the idea of retiring to bed disturbed him. "I will be fine. There is planning to be done. Has the final probe initialised?" He asked, moving around the display table, moving towards free screens, but also clearly placing the width of the display between them. It was as obvious as the change of subject matter.

Concern itched at her. She had not seen Halling this out of sorts in quite some time. He appeared strong in body, but something was not right. That he was not sharing any details on what it was that bothered him was almost as significant as his appearance. She did not expect him to share all of his thoughts with her, but as he so often did his clear distancing now felt oddly hurtful.

Frowning at her own reaction, she looked down at a screen and triggered up the appropriate data to answer his question.

"Yes, the probe awoke as planned and the first scans of Giant should be arriving shortly," she reported. At least this part of the mission was going to plan.

She glanced back up at Halling across the glowing stretch of the tactical display. He nodded quietly, his eyes moving over the report. She watched his face closely, looking for signs or symptoms of illness, but saw none. Just tiredness.

"Good morning," Si' voice arrived as he stepped into Central Station through the closest hatchway. Unlike Halling, he looked as if he had slept well in the short few hours he had captured.

"You look well rested, Si, despite having battled the robot creature last night," she noted.

He lifted one of his arms, revealing long thin healing scratches down his wide thick muscular forearm. "Not too much damage for it," he assured her. "It was more intent to escape us."

"Your report suggested it seemed focused on trying to dig its way down out of the room," she enquired, having studied all the reports closely through the night.

Si nodded as he leant against the far end of the display table. "It moved fast, trying to hide in a corner and cut its way down through the flooring. Oneakka and I managed to physically restrain it, but eight legs are a lot to contain."

Teyla nodded as she frowned down at the image of the creature again.

"How did you stop it?" Halling asked. Had he not read all of the report?

"There is a seam down its back," Si replied without pause as he pulled up more images of the creature. "Oneakka managed to insert a knife and cut it open and we then severed the lines inside it."

"After it tried to stun you both," Teyla noted.

"Concerning technology," Si agreed.

"I have sent a full report to the Training Facility and flash reports to The Fleet," she informed them. "So far there have been no other sightings of tech like this anywhere else." The two men nodded. "We are just under two hours out from Lantana," she added. "The probe's first data burst on Giant should arrive shortly."

"Good," Si intoned. "Soon enough we will be able to fully assess the situation forward."

Teyla nodded.

"I will take the next shift up here," Si said to her. "You should go enjoy first meal and some rest."

Though happy to be relieved of her rotation a little early, that Si was taking the shift made her pause.

"I thought Nalla was on rotation for the early shift," she asked.

"She asked to exchange it," Si replied. "She wants to attend the specialised training session this morning."

That was new. Nalla had not shown such interest before, but then there were new crew included in this morning's specialised training session – John included.

"Is there something that concerns Nalla?" Teyla asked carefully. "About our new visitors?" she extended.

"She says nothing concerns her," Si shrugged, but it was a gesture that told Teyla that he was not overly assured himself. Teyla frowned.

"If there was something that was a concern for the safety of the ship, Nalla would tell us," Halling put in from across the table.

"Of course," Teyla agreed instantly. "Yet, it is the first time she has shown such interest in the training."

"It is the first time we have a new collection of 'strays' on the ship," Halling replied logically enough.

"She is not concerned about any of them though?" She asked Si again.

It went without saying, though Teyla had not spoken of it with her, that Nalla would know of her situation with John. Nalla could sense all the emotions of everyone around her at all times. It was an unavoidable truth that those on the Sythus were used to, and though occasionally a faint source of vulnerability for Teyla, she did not mind Nalla's awareness of her innermost feelings.

She trusted Nalla to be completely confidential on such matters.

Yet, something almost akin to jealousy had begun to wriggle to life in Teyla's heart when Nalla was around John. Nalla would know exactly what John was feeling, the depth of his reactions; the likely mix of anger and disappointment. All of it would be laid bare to Nalla in ways that Teyla could never experience, even if she and John were still lovers.

Never before these last few days had Teyla thought such things about Nalla, and to know that Nalla would in turn be fully aware of that touch of jealousy made Teyla feel all the more exposed and slightly resentful.

It was yet another example of how John affected things in her life, far beyond what she would have predicted.

"Nalla simply said something interested her, that was all," Si clarified, not appearing concerned himself.

Might Nalla be interested in how John was feeling? Might she be watching how his emotions were changing...how his love might be dying away?

"Perhaps you should eat first meal as well," Si said across to Halling, drawing her from her strange new conflicted and irrationally jealous feelings.

Teyla focused intently on Halling and then on Si, noticing the touch of concern to Si' handsome dark features. He too saw the strain in Halling.

"I've already eaten something," Halling replied offhandedly as he tapped through reports on a screen in front of him.

Si glanced round and Teyla met his gaze knowingly. She gave the faintest of shrugs. She trusted Halling to be able to assess his fitness for battle, and besides she saw no overt signs of illness in him. She glanced back to Si and he gave the slightest of nods, which, without words, confirmed between them that he would watch over Halling. They all would, but in the thick of battle each warrior must be able to stand on their own.

"I shall go change and eat," she told the two men, though Si was the only one to meet her eyes. He smiled once more before turning his attention back to Halling.

Leaving the two men to their work, she was now off rotation until the time arrived for the meeting with the Fleet Commanders. She had plenty of time to change, eat, and perhaps rest a little before then.

Making her way through the ship back towards her quarters, she considered Halling's distracted manner further. She suspected that she herself had appeared overly distracted of late. In fact, it was only today that she felt her mood had lifted slightly, that she had lifted her attention out of the overflowing pool of her own self obsession to look around her again. For example, how had she missed the obvious signs of mutual attraction between Oneakka and Seeal? Had she also missed something happening to Halling that had led to his change in mood? So obsessed with her own emotional issues perhaps she had missed even more details around her.

Today she felt different though, she felt more relaxed about matters, as if some thick confusing cloud that had been engulfing her mind and mood was now lifting away. Perhaps it was the imminent mission, perhaps it was that finally the stress of her wedding ceremony had passed, or it could even be that now the worst was over with John. The relationship had ended, the angry words had been exchanged, and now it was simply time to move on, to find a way forward that returned them to as normal a life as was possible.

It was time to move on.

Finding herself stood outside her own quarters doors, the timing of that conclusion could not be more appropriate. Inside John would be asleep, his bed crushed into the side of her living quarters, squeezing himself into her daily life.

She took a breath and triggered open the door. The lowered light level from the corridor instantly spilled into the dark inside. She quickly stepped inside and triggered the door shut again so as not to disturb him too much.

He was in his bed, asleep, as she had predicted. The corridor light, as it had fallen into the room, had cast over the left side of his small bed, over his profile. As the light fell on his face he frowned sleepily and turned his head away from the offending light. The door slid shut quickly behind her though, dropping the room back into deep darkness once more.

Teyla's eyes, full of light from the corridor, took a moment to adjust. During that moment she was aware of the shift of sheets and a slightly grumpy male mumble as John turned over in his bed. As her eyes found details again in the darkness, she saw that he was now lying on his other side, his cheek pressed to his pillow, his hair standing up from the side of his head.

It was not lost on her that he clearly felt comfortable here not to have reacted more to the light waking him.

He also did not react to Ketra who was pulling her front legs off the side of his bed. When the door had first opened, the light had fallen over Ketra pressed up against John's back, her long neck, shoulders and front legs settled up on his bed. It looked as if she had either been guarding him, or trying to sneak her way further onto his bed.

Looking somewhat sheepish, Ketra was now shifting around in the tight space between the bed and the central low table, and again the resulting jostling did not appear to wake John. Teyla wondered if yesterday had exhausted him.

Or perhaps it was the stress of an unwanted marriage that had tired him so much.

Frowning at her negative thoughts, and the fact that she was stood here in the dark watching him sleep, she quickly turned away and marched across the room to the sleeping area of her quarters. She reached up and pulled the dividing curtain across quietly, Ketra pushing around it at the last second before it was in place. Teyla then triggered alive the light by her bed, which remained at a low level from last night and early this morning.

Ketra padded to her side and Teyla turned to her pet, reaching out to stroke over Ketra's sleepy cheeks and brow.

"I see that John took good care of you," she whispered quietly. "Or were you taking good care of him?" She smiled.

Ketra sighed softly in her hands and turned away, padding over to her favoured rug set before Teyla's bed. Teyla moved away to set her weapons aside, and watched as Ketra turned twice round on the rug before settling down with a heavy sleepy sigh. For such a large creature, Ketra could curl herself up into a surprisingly tight circle. However, it was still quite a large circle, which overflowed the favoured rug in question. Teyla had to step carefully around Ketra to retrieve her hairbrush, but she did not mind.

As she moved towards her wardrobe she paused though, aware that something was different about her home. She glanced around, trying to identify the source of the feeling. After a moment, she realised that there was a new smell to the air at this end of her quarters. She paced towards the closed door to the washroom and triggered it open. The alien scents of Earth wafted around her, and the humidity lingering in the washroom told her that John had showered last night before he had retired to bed.

Moving further into the small room, the door sliding shut behind her and the light shining to life overhead, she drew in the smells of his wash products. The memories attached to them stirred awake even more forcefully than they had last night.

There were visible changes in here as well as those in the air. John had placed his toiletries in the emptied cage on the basin. She ran her eyes over the bottles and tubes, all covered in his Earth language. She was familiar with a few words of his language, but she did not recognise any now.

She lifted one metal canister, only to discover that it was far lighter than she had expected. She shook the can feeling the sensation of foam inside it. During her visit to Atlantis she had witnessed him use fluffy white foam to help shave off his beard growth, and she spied now a damp metal shaver among the other canisters. She examined the foam container, frowning at the strange writing on it as she pulled off the lid. The scent of it was light, but strong with memories. This was the smell of his cheek and jaw, into which she had nuzzled and kissed. Although on him it was mixed with the elemental natural smell that was John, the foam's sweet musky scent was explicitly familiar to her.

She set the lid back on quickly and returned it to the cage. Memories, sensual and playful, ran through her thoughts, and she could not stop herself from reaching for another example of Earth toiletries. This one, a long squishy tube, was squashed in the middle and smelt sharp and fresh. This would be the paste to brush one's teeth with; there were such pastes used in the Alliance as well, thought not with the exact same scent as this. It too was overly familiar, bringing forth the taste of too many shared kisses.

She put the tube back in its previous place and stepped away from the new addition to her washroom. A glance into the shower area revealed two bottles that were his shower products, and once again the humidity carried the scent of them to her all too strongly.

He was most definitely going to have to have his own quarters!

At least in the adjoining quarters in Tjaru they would have separate bathrooms – she hoped. She was almost certain that was the way of things. Though Zabetha and Rhakshar had only one bathroom, but they had lived in each other's space from the first day of their marriage.

To distract herself from her study of his things, she used the facilities and washed her hands, drying them on her hand towel, beside which hung John's Earth towel.

She turned and triggered open the door, only to find John stood across her sleeping space, just inside the dividing curtain, one hand rubbing sleepily over his face.

"Hey," he uttered, sounding still half asleep as she exited her washroom.

He looked rumpled from his sleep, his clothing soft and no doubt warmed through with his body heat, and his hair stood up in random directions.

It had been so much easier to deal with him yesterday when she was angry with him. That protective anger was all burnt away now though, and with the achingly familiar scents of him in her nose, she struggled to find some emotional solid ground on which to stand.

"Good morning," she replied politely as she entered her sleeping space, feeling the same awkwardness from yesterday evening once more. "I did not mean to wake you," she apologised.

"You didn't," he replied, his voice deeper and raspier with sleep. The sound of that tone, remembered well from waking up beside him, was yet again another overly memorable sting. "Got to get up for the Tyoosi ordered training session this morning," he added as he ran both his hands through his hair and then stretched his arms and back sleepily.

She nodded, unable to stop herself from watching his bare forearms flex as he arched his back with his stretch. He appeared warm and relaxed, not quite properly awake.

At another time she would have eagerly stepped up against his warm body and slid her arms around him.

Ketra appeared in her view, the dragon bumping her snout against John's leg, demanding his attention. Teyla lowered her eyes to watch as John idly rubbed the top of Ketra's head and, apparently happy with that, Ketra quickly returned to her favoured sleeping spot.

Frowning at Ketra's behaviour, which once again seemed more akin to how she treated family, Teyla forced her distracted tendencies back under control.

"Good," she offered back, though not sure she even recalled exactly what he had last said. They would definitely need separate quarters after this mission was over.

She turned away towards her wardrobe, looking for something to busy herself with. She needed a change of clothes.

"They find anything else in the water pipes?" John asked as he finished his stretch.

She kept her attention on opening up the wardrobe. "All tests have been clear. There is no evidence of any other alien matter."

"That's good to know," he replied with feeling.

"Indeed," she agreed, wondering idly if she should thank him for his support up on Central Station last night. But, she did not wish to draw attention to that moment of physical contact though...

Somewhat annoyed at herself, being the Elite warrior that she was yet still feeling awkward with a basic conversation, she considered her clothing.

"I asked Woolsey to check with Colonel Carter that there's nothing like the Seed ship in the City's database," he added, answering her previously considered questions.

She looked round at him this time, along her shoulder. "Do you think they will find anything?"

He shrugged one soft fabric covered shoulder. The muscle beneath was bunched up somewhat as he had crossed his arms over his chest. That move, as well as the lingering sense of awkwardness in the air, told her he was not as relaxed as he may present himself to be.

"If they do, they'll report back," he promised. "Though, admittedly we've been through everything Wraith related in the computers and I've not found anything like that slug robot."

She nodded, turning her attention swiftly back to her clothes and away from his amusing term for the robot. "Given the time that has passed since you spoke with Mr Wolsey yesterday evening, I suspect we would have heard by now if they had found something." She reached out and pulled some brown trousers free of their hook.

"Yeah," he agreed.

She pulled out a holster that fitted well with the trousers and then contemplated what top to wear with them.

"Any news on the big upcoming battle?" He asked, clearly probing for information.

"Nothing I can share as yet," she replied as she pulled out a top. "But soon enough we will be able to brief everyone." She stepped back from her wardrobe and triggered the door shut. "You may even be able to attend the briefing," she considered, glancing at him, making herself look at him. "Representing Atlantis as you do."

"Me and Ford can help out on the ship too," he added quickly.

She moved away with her clothes, stepping around Ketra, to lay them down on her bed. It was a difficult area for her to address with John. It would not be appropriate for her to insist that he was used in the mission ahead, even if she could see how useful his own skills would be. She had already pondered on suggesting he be utilised, but was unsure if she should put her new political husband at such obvious risk.

"I understand that it must be difficult for you to feel excluded from matters here," she offered, glancing at him from beside her bed. His arms were still crossed.

"We can help out," he insisted again.

"I am sure you can, but I am certain that it will be the same for me in Atlantis. Do you think Colonel Sumner would be happy for me to go on missions with your team during my stay in Atlantis?"

He glanced away and gave another one of those half shrugs. "He might."

She frowned at him with disbelief. He had told her far too many stories of his commanding officer for her to believe anything different. She had little personal experience with Colonel Sumner, the military Lead of Atlantis, but what she had seen of the gruff man had only backed up John's own stories.

John frowned back. "I'd fight for you to join us."

It sounded like a positive comment, but she thought she had heard some bitterness in his voice and his tone implied that he would do better by her.

"The implication being that I am not fighting for you?" She called him on the comment.

"I didn't say that," he argued.

"We are both political figures now and we must step carefully," she explained.

"I thought the Elite didn't worry about politics," John challenged.

"Of course we do," she responded quickly. "I do especially, since what we have is a _political_ marriage."

"Yeah, I remember," he uttered.

This discussion appeared to be deteriorating somewhat and she was not sure how to prevent it doing so any further.

"It is not my place to force my political husband into the mission ahead of us," she tried to explain again.

"I'm volunteering, not being forced."

"I mean forcing you upon the others," she clarified. "And if you were to be killed during your first stay on the ship it would not look good."

"The whole ship's going into the battle, Teyla," he replied. Did he think she was not aware of that obvious fact? "I'm already in danger."

She looked away to her clothes that she had laid out ready. She would need to ask him to leave her sleeping area for her to change. Undressing in front of him was not an option anymore. Perhaps asking for privacy would provide the means to halt this growingly difficult conversation.

"I understand it is difficult for you," she tried. "But, I cannot insist that you be included among the crew."

He looked away, the tension clear in his arms and shoulders. "So I'm supposed to just hideaway in your quarters while you're out there fighting the Wraith?"

"Yes," she replied simply. "But you will be included in the specialised training sessions."

"What's the point if I'm going to be kept locked away?" He asked. He was most definitely bitter now and did not appear in the best of moods this morning.

"You are not being kept _locked away_," she pointed out. "The Elite wish you to be as highly trained as possible, so that you remain safe when away from us." She turned to her clothes, unfastening the holster's buckle. "It is how it is in a Political Marriage; certain things are for appearances only, such as the adjoining quarters."

She was aware that she had thrown that in to make a small point, though it was not a lie. Almost all Political Marriages were about putting on a show. Most of the couples involved did not know each other prior to their marriage, and some did not get along at all.

"Well, this contract means a lot to Atlantis and to Earth," he argued. "Even if it's just about appearances for you."

She sighed to herself. "Of course it means something to me; I was the one who chose this marriage."

"I think I was the one who saved your ass from marrying a Genii," he objected.

She sighed heavily. "I did not need _saving_; we both agreed to this marriage for the sakes of both our peoples. Perhaps there is a way that you can assist on the ship in the future," she acquiesced somewhat, "but right now you are a political guest, albeit one joining us on a dangerous mission."

He huffed out a breath as she looked back at him over her shoulder. "I appreciate that the situation may be frustrating," she offered.

He looked back round at her, meeting her gaze, and it struck her how true her statement had been. Not just with regard to how he could assist in this mission, that he likely felt bored or powerless, but also frustrated with regard to the strained atmosphere between them still.

She could not do much about that, though the fact that they had progressed away from angry exchanges or overt strained politeness was something of an improvement. He was at least sharing his frustration with her, though he was also seeing if he could get his way through her too.

His eyes held hers, and in them she thought she saw an echo of her own confused awkwardness with him. Now that her anger with him had faded, she was finding it easier this morning to see his side of matters. She had not handled their break up at all well, and she had since let her own pride and stubbornness drive her, which she would admit did occur when she felt emotionally heighted and matters felt out of her control. He was likely feeling just the same.

She glanced aside to break their prolonged eye contact as it felt too intimate. "I could ask the others that you and Lieutenant Ford be present in Central Station during the battle," she offered. "That way you can see what is occurring. It would be admissible that a political ally can witness the event."

He nodded immediately. "Okay," he agreed readily. "Thanks."

She felt pleased that they had resolved that at least, and nodded back to him.

"Tyoosi will have to clear it," she added. "And you will likely have a guard watching over you."

"We promise not to try to take over the ship," he responded, the joke appropriate for him, but it still felt somewhat forced.

She smiled back as best she could. "Good."

He smiled back, his lips pressed together.

She looked away.

The silence that descended still seemed uncomfortable even though they were getting along with each other better now. She looked back at him.

"I am sure that we will find our way through the details of this marriage, moving forward," she promised.

He nodded, but this time he broke their eye contact, glancing away with that twitch to his cheek that informed her of his discomfort. She wished she knew what was going through his mind – did he actually agree? If she had Nalla's skills at this moment would it help her or make the gulf between them all the more obvious?

The point to focus on was that they were moving on, which was good. They had their jobs to follow, their people to represent, and the Wraith to battle. They could make this work, and move forward beyond simple sensuality and tempting flesh that had distracted them both for many months. That time had passed, and now they would move on.

She just wished she did not feel so very sad at that fact. It was best for them, yet...

She turned her attention away from him, away from the temptation of what was now in the past.

"I need to change my clothes and have First Meal," she stated to him as she picked up her new top and then glanced over her shoulder to him.

His eyes dropped to the clothes before her and she saw him register her request for privacy. She had never asked for it before from him, but things had changed.

She thought she saw a flicker of annoyance, or perhaps hurt, alter his handsome features for a moment, but it was gone quickly as he looked away.

"Sure, I've got to use the washroom," he replied a little too readily. "Got to go have my ass kicked again this morning." He pursed his lips with his joke as he moved away, heading towards the closed door to the washroom.

"Thank you," she found herself saying, even though this was her space and she was entitled to her privacy.

"Sure," he repeated as he triggered open the washroom door.

"I shall see you later for the briefing," she told him, intending to dress and leave before he had finished in the washroom.

"Right," he agreed, but his tone was once again overly polite and jovial.

She offered an uncomfortable smile as the door slid shut, separating them.

She let out a quiet heavy sigh and looked up at the ceiling overhead for a moment.

It would get easier, she was almost certain.

She hoped...

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TBC


	36. The Elite Temptation

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**Chapter 36 - The Elite Temptation**

A sharp noise vaguely registered to her, drawing her attention up into some conscious awareness. The remains of an already forgotten dream slid away as the odd invasive sound repeated, cutting off sharply, but its damage was done.

She felt drugged, heavy, and so unbelievably comfortable that just the awareness of that fact felt annoyingly distracting. Yet, her consciousness was lifting, bringing with it memories of yesterday. However, even recalled memories of fighting an alien robot and almost drowning standing up didn't bother her in this place of blissful comfort.

If all the crew on the Sythus slept on mattresses this comfortable, it was no wonder that they worked so hard for the Elite.

She could not remember being so comfortable ever, but then her last bed had been a thin sleeping mat on the floor of the recently flooded Hot Water Regulation Chamber. This mattress was soft, and seemed to have moulded itself around her to hug her in its warm blissful soft hug.

And the pillow was good too; nothing like the thin thing she had been given with the sleeping mat or in the brig. This one was fluffy, soft against her cheek and tucked in just nicely in her arm and around her head.

A new bleep noise echoed from somewhere far beyond her blissful warmth. Seeal frowned at the sound, and not just because it was serving to draw her further out of her snooze, but that brought with it awareness of other sounds.

Oneakka was moving around his quarters. She could hear him moving things around, not loudly, but it was still enough to intrude in on her comfort. Did he not know how blissful these mattresses were? How could he leave his?

Perhaps he had one filled with rocks; she smiled against her warm pillow. It probably looked all 'normal' from the outside, but inside it would be hard and uncomfortable. Not like hers.

The sheets and blanket over her were good too. Twice the thickness of those on Dreamstation, and they smelt of some pleasing aroma, rather than the slightly plastic scent the sleeping mat had given everything in the Hot Water Regulation Chamber. When she left the Sythus she might see if she could purchase one of these blankets to take with her.

As much as she hated the cold, it being too linked with nasty old memories, she loved warmth. She knew it was a weakness of hers, something that she had tried not to indulge in too frequently in the past. After all, how could she respond instantly to any threats if she was snuggled with so much warmth and comfort? How the Elite were the decent warriors they were was anyone's guess.

If they had given her this bed back when she had been held in the brig, she might have actually considered telling them absolutely everything she knew and more.

She frowned into the warmth of her pillow, wondering idly if Oneakka had known this about her and had put this bed together to weaken her in some way.

No, she was being paranoid. The whole crew probably had this blissful package to enjoy – the lucky, intelligent and highly trained crew. She supposed you had to have something good to balance out the craziness of fighting the Wraith every day.

Another new sound intruded into her happy space though and this time she found herself automatically opening her eyes. Someone was talking through a tiny speaker on a wall communications panel, but she couldn't make out the words. Which might have something to do with the fact that she realised that she had curled herself up into a ball under the blankets. Like some kind of puppy like creature she had curled up into the warmth, won over by the feeling of security and unbelievably comfortable mattress. What she wouldn't have given to have had bedding like this when she was younger. She might have turned out differently if she had known comfort like this could exist by joining the Alliance military.

She blinked into the darkness of the coverings over her, feeling slightly smothered by them now she was more conscious, but she was still unwilling to draw up out of her curled up state of bliss.

No, the call for some fresh air was required. She lifted her head up, brushing her cheek against her ridiculously soft pillow, and out from under the blanket. It was bright outside her cocoon and she blinked sleepily.

The blue dividing curtain filled her view, hanging quite close to the side of the bed, the more transparent panels at the end showing a clear view of the far side of his quarters. Confused as to why she could see that panel from the top of the bed, she realised that she had not only curled up on the mattress, but right down into the middle of it, so that she was half way down the bed, her head towards the side wall.

Still feeling drugged from the excessively comfortable sleep, she struggled into a more upright slump, drawing her shoulders and one arm out from under the glorious warmth of the blankets. She leant the back of her head back against the wall and blinked at the transparent panel.

She hadn't pulled the curtain all the way across before she had gone to bed. It only stretched to the end of the bed, not across the width of the room. She had been close to exhausted when she had finally fallen onto this mattress of delight. She had stayed up for quite some time working on that retinal scanner, cursing and muttering at the de-scrambler's inability to communicate with the scanner. Oneakka hadn't appeared to mind, as he had simply sat in silence, working on his own tinkering and then later reading.

She had pointed out that she had never known him to be so quiet before, and he had retaliated by asking if she was ever quiet. To show that she could, she had held in her mutterings until the point that he had abruptly decreed that it was time to retire. She had wanted to object, but as she had been barely able to see straight by that point, she had let him take the retinal scanner combo from her and hand her a short-sleeved soft shirt of his for her to wear in bed.

She glanced down at her chest now, finding it indeed covered with a pale grey shirt. The scent she had been enjoying earlier might be coming from it.

That wasn't good.

Neither was the fact that she was listening to him moving around on the other side of the curtain. At the edge of the transparent panel she had seen the flash of one pale arm – blue tinged by the curtain though it was.

Then he stepped into view, moving through the transparent panel's view to the side wall, tapping open a cupboard door which she recalled was a wardrobe last night. Which was an appropriate place for him to be because he clearly needed some clothes for the day.

He was bare-chested and the view was just a little too good.

As he reached into the wardrobe with one of his long muscular arms, she was allowed a nice profile view of his torso.

Of course he was going to be lean and toned – he was an Elite warrior.

It was expected.

That he could probably be used as an example of perfect maleness was surely also expected of an Elite warrior.

This was not good. She should look away.

He turned slightly, affording a better view of his chest, and she leaned a little further to her right to confirm her suspicions. He had barely any body hair at all, or if he did, it was as pale as his skin tone. Except there was one patch of some light hair right in the centre of his upper chest, which came into clear focus as he turned from the wardrobe, pausing to trigger the door closed again.

In doing so, he revealed another secret about him, one which she had pondered about before now. Despite the obvious nature of the tattoos gracing the right side of his face, in spending more time with him she had thought that there were not enough of them. Surely a man with his fighting skill and grumpy determination would have more markings than she had counted on his face. Sure they were stylised and more detailed than those she had seen on others, but his tattoos had clearly been well designed to work in and around his facial scarring. But, in total, she suspected there were perhaps only ten on his face. She had seen more on other Elite warriors, most notably Emmagan.

Now, she had her answer.

Tucked around the left side of his ribcage, dark black Wraith-like tattoos ran in rippling bands around his side, looking rather like the stripes one saw on the most poisonous of creatures.

But they were not the only markings.

On his upper chest, set just to the left of centre, as if directly above his heart, there was a large tattooed glyph in a language she didn't know. But, it did look similar to that which she had seen on some of his books last night, which would mean it was likely to be in Ugun, the now dead language of his people.

The urge to find out exactly what the glyph meant, especially placed so symbolically over his heart, was exceedingly tempting, but to ask would admit that she had been spying on him. Well, not spying, he was the one who put up the curtain with a sheer panel. It wasn't her fault that he was visible through it.

Though he was moving out of view now, and with his left side towards her, she was afforded a clear view of the stripes around his left ribs, stretching right down to the waistband of his shorts.

She heard the door to his bathroom open and close.

She settled back against her pillow and pulled the blankets up over her face.

Great.

The last thing she needed was to indulge in the stupid little warm feelings she had been developing towards the big oaf of an Elite.

Why couldn't he be as unattractive and boring as he had initially appeared to her during her first meetings with him? Actually, "dominating" and "scary" might have been better descriptions back then. Now though, he was all human – liking books, having interests, and smelling all nice.

This was not good.

She did not need another male as a focus in her life. She had spent far too much of her life being obligated to males, looking out for her brother, having to deal with the street boys and then the males in the pit fight environments, and then all of the manipulative males on Dreamstation. Creass had offered her a job on the station for the good of his business, but that had never stopped trying to persuade her into his bed.

She had no time for such things. Attraction was just another way of manipulating people, and she had seen sexual allure be the most powerful and destructive of forces. Half of those she had detained on Dream had been causing trouble in the lower levels with the prostitutes. When you added sex to any equation it never ended well.

Not that she was entering such thoughts now. As if.

He was an Elite warrior and she was an ex-criminal, possibly cursed and in no way interested.

They didn't even get along.

Though, she did trust him.

It was probably just the drugging affects of the amazing mattress and blankets.

She heard the bathroom door open behind the curtain.

"Wake up, Raven!" He abruptly called, or rather shouted.

"I'm awake," she objected instantly. "No need to go shouting and waking up the whole ship."

There was something suspiciously close to a chuckle from beyond the curtain.

"You have First Meal and a training session to get to," he informed her.

"I know," she responded through the fabric as she heard him moving away, but without further sheer panels across the rest of the dividing curtain she had no way to see him.

He had better be properly dressed now.

"I am leaving here in half a standard hour," he stated. "If you're still in here when I set today's code into the door locks then you're staying in here all day," he threatened.

She had managed to struggle herself up out of the warm cocoon of the mattress and blankets, swinging her bare legs over the side of the bed.

"Do you want to bet I can't break through that code and break myself out?" She challenged him back.

"You can try another time," he responded. "Not today."

She huffed at that as she gathered up the ship loaned clothes she had worn last night, along with the fresh pair of underwear from the ship's stores. Hopefully her own clothes would be dry this morning and she could change later, maybe after the training session.

She stood up from the bed, her new clothes held in her arms, and tugged down her loaned nightshirt. Though the soft shirt was designed for someone Oneakka's size and was therefore too large at the shoulder and sides, as she was almost as long in the body as he, the shirt only just covered her backside. She tugged it down over her butt as securely as possible and then, holding the clothes close to keep the shirt in place, she pulled back the dividing curtain.

Fortunately he was dressed. In that brown armour that suited him the best.

He glanced round from where he had been going through something on a shelf.

"Half a standard hour," he reiterated.

"I know," she stated. "One would think you have control issues or something."

She marched to the door of the washroom, steadfastly not tugging down the shirt or looking round at him to check he wasn't watching her retreat. She was not used to showing skin to others – the Glisi by definition were nearly always covered up against the cold of their world, and she had always preferred to cover herself in dark, concealing clothes. Dark tones and shades had been the way of her lifestyle for too long. Idly she realised that she could now purchase herself some lighter shades of clothing to try out, once she had her clean slate and could walk freely on any Alliance world.

She reached his bathroom door, triggered open the door and stepped through without looking round or appearing anything but confident.

However, once the door slid shut, she quickly checked the shirt had covered her backside. It had.

She set her loaned clothes onto the large surface by the basin and glanced up into the large mirror.

Her hair was a complete state! Clearly burrowing into the depths of a warm and comforting bed meant that your hair became a massive bush that stood out in all directions. She had walked past him looking like this?!

She tried to press down the mess, but gave up quickly. She was going to wash it anyway, so what was the point. She didn't care about such little things anyway. Damn him though, he was probably laughing at her in there.

She opened the cupboard by the door from which she had borrowed a small towel last night, and now contemplated Oneakka's extensive range of towels inside. He either had a lot of guests, which she highly doubted, or he washed a lot – probably after tons of training and Wraith killing sessions every day.

Or maybe he just liked to collect towels.

She pulled a large one out, which was decorated with orange, red, and brown lines through a pure white background. She hung the towel aside and began to remove her few clothes. She paused though and just made sure that the door was locked. It was. She was being stupid.

She undressed quickly and stepped into the large bath above which was set the shower head. He had clearly used it before her, since everything was damp and there was that thick smell of the ship's soap in the humid air.

She triggered on the water.

After recovering from leaping away from the assault of overly hot water, she reached carefully around the boiling stream, and adjusted the temperature to something more normal. She liked heat, but how did he have any skin left after a shower that hot?! And the water pressure was far too powerful. She dialled down the pressure by half.

The temperature and pressure at a more sensible level, she stepped into the stream and sighed at the blissful deluge.

She turned in the glorious rush of water, letting it pound against her shoulders and upper back. It was like a proper massage, a hot glorious pummelling away of any tension from her muscles, and she drank it all in. She had never experienced a shower like this before. It was as intoxicating as the mattress had been.

This was the life.

She lazily set about soaping her skin and hair, and then enjoyed a good rinse, lifting her face up into the rushing warm heat, letting it seep and ease into her.

Regretfully she had to leave the shower though, and so shut it down with a sigh, but she felt awake and thoroughly relaxed. Dripping wet, she climbed over the side of his bath and wrapped herself up in his towel and used the smaller one from yesterday to blot at her hair before leaning forward into the hot air dryer set by the mirror. The blast of hot air was another rush of relaxing soothing enjoyment as she turned her head, drying her hair through, uncaring as to the time passing.

Her hair dry, she dried her body with the big fluffy towel, wishing she had some of her usual moisturiser. She didn't suppose Oneakka had anything like that in the cupboard below the basin. She didn't look, instead pulled on her new underwear and then the less than satisfactory Sythus crew uniform. Hopefully once she'd 'enjoyed' the training session this morning she would change into her own clothes. She might even need another shower after the training session.

Feeling good, she folded up the borrowed nightshirt and tucked away out of sight her used underwear inside it, and triggered open the bathroom door.

Oneakka was stood nearby, sliding his long knives off the wall and into the scabbards against his lower back. "You took your time," he commented.

"It's amazing you have any skin left with the temperature you set the shower," she said him back as she brushed past him back towards her bed.

"Did you change the settings?" He objected.

"That's what the big dials are for," she returned as she tucked her clothes away and sat down on the side of her bed after idly pulling the blankets back over it.

"Are you always this grumpy when you wake up?" Oneakka asked as he slid a stunner into the holster against his right hip.

"At least it's not all day like _some_ people," she smiled up at him, pleased with that come back as she reached for the clunky less than pleasurable military boots.

She pushed her socked feet into them, frowning distastefully down at them as she set about lacing up the first one.

A heavy exaggerated sigh floated to her. She ignored it and smiled as she worked to get the laces just right so if she was forced to wear these things she could at least run effectively in them.

"In your own time, Raven," Oneakka muttered.

She glanced up to find him leant against the side wall, clearly ready to go and just waiting for her.

"You can go, I'd be happy to lock up for you," she suggested.

He glanced away, clearly exaggerating his impatience for effect. "At least I don't snore."

"I do _not_ snore," she objected as she finished with one boot and moved on to the next.

"I heard something last night," he replied.

"It was probably you, waking yourself up with your own snoring – or with some other sound," she suggested.

He actually smiled at that before he pointedly looked down at her remaining boot.

He looked different when he smiled; it brought a lightness to his features and altered the lie of the tattoos across his face. The blue of his eyes seemed to shine brighter too.

She frowned down at her boot as she tied up the laces. She was not to focus on such things. He was impatient, annoying, difficult, and they didn't agree on anything.

"I do have more important things to do that stand around waiting for you," he tried next.

"Then why are you waiting for me?" She asked with a smug smile. "Oh yes, you're afraid I'll break your code lock and go through all your things."

"You couldn't even hack that retinal scanner."

"Give me more time and I'll do it," she replied, annoyed that he was right.

"If I lock you in here then you'll have plenty of time."

She rolled her eyes as she finished with an extra knot and stood up. "No need, I'm ready to go. Thanks for waiting," she smiled sarcastically at him as she headed past him towards the exit.

She felt his presence following her down the small corridor to the door out of his quarters.

"I need to set the code before you open the door," he instructed as she reached the closed hatchway. She paused for him to tap in his code, which she assumed from what he said was a daily changed code that he either made up or constructed from a random generator.

He stepped up close to her, inserting his shoulder in such a way that she was forced to step aside to make way for him to cover the pad as he tapped in the code. She peered up over his shoulder to see what kind of panel he was using for his coding. He noticed though and lifted his shoulder defensively.

The code entered, the door slid open and she stepped out into the corridor, quickly looking to the outside panel to get a look at this one. He stepped out after her and once again quickly inserted himself between her and the panel, forcing her backwards.

Sighing loudly, she gave him the room he needed but not too much, as he turned his back and tapped in his code again.

"This seems a somewhat extreme security system," she observed to his back as the door slid shut at confirmation of his code.

"Are you telling me that you didn't have something similar on your quarters on Dreamstation?" He challenged as he turned round towards her. There wasn't all that much space though, so it resulted in them being stood quite close. She held her ground though, but did shift her weight onto her back foot to give herself a little more room.

"The situation on Dream was a little different," she pointed out. "I lived on a station with smugglers and killers, while you live with the best of the best in the Alliance military. Don't you trust those you work with?" She was actually quite interested in the answer as she gazed at him thoughtfully.

"Your being here proves that others can get onboard," he replied.

"I suppose Iketani and other traitors like Karthig were onboard," she considered, ignoring the dig at her. "So perhaps your paranoia is justified."

"It's not paranoia," he objected.

"If you say so," she smiled, pleased that she had found a nerve.

It was at this point that she became aware of the sensation of being watched. She and Oneakka both looked round at the same moment to find that the goat was sat a few feet away, watching them both with interest.

Seeal frowned at the animal, which innocently looked from her to Oneakka and back.

"Why is it here?" She whispered to Oneakka.

"It was here the other morning," he responded almost as quietly.

"Do you feed it?" She asked.

"Only in the Hydroponics Bay."

She looked down into the strange goat eyes and felt the oddest compulsion to explain why she had been found coming out of Oneakka's quarters. That nothing had happened.

It was a crazy reaction. It was just a goat.

"It's just a goat," Oneakka stated more confidently, mirroring her own thoughts.

"I know," she insisted.

"It's just looking around," Oneakka concluded as he moved away, heading down the corridor, away from the goat's watchful eyes.

Seeal nodded in agreement as she followed him. "Though I've heard a few of the crew talking about it," she commented as she looked back, and sure enough the goat was following them. "Apparently it's a sort of crossbreed, so it's not _just_ a goat."

"I had heard something about that," Oneakka replied, and she swore she could hear him smiling around the words.

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TBC


	37. Sunday Morning

**Note:** Sorry for no chapters last week - mixed with a big couple of weeks at work and going to a festival - plus getting ill these last couple of days - I didn't have the time. Thank you so much to everyone for the reviews for the last two chapters. To those I can't reply to as you were guests on FF, thank you. I was particularly fascinated by the range of responses to the John/Teyla angst chapter - some of you found the angst a bit too much, some found it depressing and others found it hopeful. See how fascinating writing can be :) Anyway, here are two new chapters, as we enter into what I think of Act III of this fic. The next chapter is one that quite a few people have asked for over the years - a new pov that I hope you guys will enjoy and find insightful.

Thanks again for your support. Wedj x

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**Chapter 37 – Sunday Morning**

Carson was happy. Not only did he have an entire day away from work, but he was going fishing. He couldn't remember the last time he had set out on a day dedicated to one of his most favourite pastimes. Sitting by the cool lapping edge of a lake, lock, or river had been a large part of his childhood. Like all his siblings, he had known how to catch a trout before he had known how to talk, well, that's what his Granddad had used to say at least. As he had gotten older, family trips had always been centred around the salmon fishing season; There was nothing as magical as catching a Scottish salmon, fresh from the water, its scales gleaming in the light.

Of course, he had no real idea what the local fish would be like on this trip. They were apparently close to a trout, but obviously still an alien fish. He was excited – he was going where no fisherman had gone before.

He smiled as he bounced up the staircase two steps at a time. His Granddad would have loved to know that one of his boys was going to fish where no one had fished before.

Despite it being the city's first mandatory rest day, the Control Room was still fully staffed. He guessed that someone had to be watching the basics of the city, but he felt sorry for these poor people sat behind their consoles. He had kind of expected there to be a more relaxed atmosphere up here – kind of like it was on Christmas day in the city. However, all those familiar faces sat behind Ancient consoles looked serious and far too intently interested in their work.

A quick glance towards Colonel Carter's office confirmed that something was up. Colonel Sumner, who was in uniform despite it being a day off, was stood inside the glass office, deep in discussion with Colonel Carter.

Carson paused by the main control desk, the pleasant Lieutenant Fletcher on duty behind it.

"Morning, Doctor," she smiled up at him, her English accent always welcome to his ears.

"Morning, Luv," Carson replied. "What's going on?"

The lieutenant followed his gaze to the office. "We had a call from Athos a short time ago."

Worried, Carson focused on her. "Everything okay with Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford?"

"Nothing about them," she replied with a reassuring smile. "There was some mention of the Genii."

Carson frowned back towards the Colonel's office. So much for a day off.

"Going fishing by any chance?" Fletcher asked with warm sarcasm directed towards his vest.

Carson smiled at her. "Got to be prepared."

Not that he'd had to add much to the fishing waistcoat. The regalia of fishing tackle was mostly back in the Jumper, but the vest held the most useful bits and pieces he would need to hand while reeling in his new prize alien space trout. He'd decided to take a wide range of flies and lines because no one else would know what kind of weight and skill these alien fish would present. And of course he needed to take extra because Rodney wouldn't have anything of his own.

"Have a good time," Fletcher smiled up at him.

"I just wanted to check that we've still got the Jumper booked," he asked, the question being one of two reasons why he'd come up here first thing this morning.

"Oh yes," Fletcher smiled. "Colonel Carter made sure it was on the list."

Carson nodded, glancing back at the Colonel's office. Sumner looked like he was leaving.

"I don't suppose she'll want to join us," he guessed out loud. "What with Dr McKay being there."

Fletcher smiled with him. "I'm sure Doctor McKay would enjoy it."

"Now, now," Carson replied as he moved away, "he's a taken man remember."

"Yes, so he keeps reminding all of us," Fletcher shook her head, her attention already returning to her work. "Have a good time, Doc," she called, using the American slang with such ease now.

Colonel Sumner was approaching along the short walkway from the office. "Mornin', Doc," the gruff military commander greeted him.

"Morning, Colonel," Carson replied politely. "I didn't think you were on duty today," he carefully broached the subject.

"Always on duty, Doc," Sumner replied as they passed each other. "Like a doctor."

Carson frowned at the man's back as he strode away. What did that mean exactly? That he didn't approve of Carson having time off?

Frowning, Cason continued on to Carter's glass office door. She hadn't seen him approach, so he knocked lightly on the door and her blonde head came up with a frown. A smile soon replaced it though as she waved him in.

"Good morning, Colonel," he greeted her as he pushed open the door and stepped into her office. "I hear there's been some work for you already this morning."

She smiled and sighed with obvious tiredness. "Isn't there always, Carson."

"True enough," he conceded as he stopped on the other side of her desk from her. "But, even the city Commander must have a day off. It is a 'Mandatory' rest day for a reason."

Her large blue eyes rose up to his, and though there was a hint of annoyance at his reminder, repeating of her own words to him, there was mostly humour and tiredness in her expression.

"True enough," she replied as she set down her tablet. "Was there something you needed? I hope McKay hasn't stood you up today."

"Nope," Carson replied with a smile, though admittedly he had half expected Rodney to have backed out last night, especially as he had clearly forgotten about the trip. The man could remember advanced complex calculations, but ask him what day it was and he was often stumped - too much time spent in the lab, which was another good reason for Rodney to have a day away from the city.

"I just wanted to make sure you got my email," he explained. "About working with the Alliance on the retrovirus." After she had suggested the possibility during his shift last night, he'd decided to set out some ideas on how they could work with the Alliance on the retrovirus, including some protocols he thought might help convince the IOA back home.

"I have it," she smiled, the smile telling him that she wasn't entirely convinced by his excuse for being up here. "I've already added your suggestions to my report, ready to go. I'm grateful for your comments."

"I could hardly say no to working with the Alliance," Carson replied. "It's not like I own the work."

"It is your baby, Carson," Carter replied with a smile as she leant back in her chair. "I know what it's like to feel like you might be losing control of your own pet project. No one would argue if you felt your work was potentially being taken away from you."

Carson glanced over his shoulder, back the way Sumner had gone. "I hardly think I could have held onto it," he said carefully.

"You are the lead on this work and no one knows this retrovirus like you do, Carson," she assured him.

"I don't know about that," he replied quickly. "Most of my team know as much as I do now, it's been important that we work well together. You never know what could happen."

He glanced down to the Colonel's desk, the same desk that Elizabeth had sat behind for almost a year. He still felt a tightness in his chest to remember wrapping up Elizabeth's shrivelled body ready for burial back on Earth. Many had died in the Wraith's siege of the city, but none of them had affected him as much as Elizabeth's death. She had been such a lovely person and he wished more than anything that she could have been saved from the painful terrifying end she had faced at the hands of a Wraith.

"Needless to say," Carter said into the brief silence, "I wouldn't have been happy to move forward with this without your agreement. You're my specialist and favourite in this," she smiled.

He was human and so the pretty smile and compliment made him feel instantly too warm.

"Are you sure that you're happy to agree to off-world visits into Alliance space should the need arise?" she continued. He had made that clear in his email suggestions, though the prospect was daunting. John and Aidan might not blink at joining the Elite on a trip to who knew where, but he was just a doctor. Besides, the last time he had worked on the retrovirus away from the city it hadn't ended very well. He still had a few nightmares about his time spent with Iketani.

"Whatever helps move the project along," Carson agreed, trying to sound confident. He wasn't sure he sold it though.

"Okay, because to me," Carter said, "_you_ are our best resource, not the retrovirus. I will be making that clear to our Alliance friends when you work with them. Retroviruses can be recreated, you can't."

Carson felt overly warm again. "I'm sure others in my team could do just as well."

The Colonel smiled up at him. "My report will go to the IOA today, and since you've reminded me to take the day off like everyone else, was there anything else you needed?" Intelligent humour sparkled in her beautiful blue eyes.

He smiled back innocently. "I only came up here to check Rodney and I still had use of a Jumper."

"Of course," she narrowed her eyes doubtfully. "Just make sure to take plenty of photos," she grinned, "preferably of Rodney falling into the water."

"Oh, I will," he smiled back, only to pause. "I heard you had a call from Athos. Is everything okay with Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford out with the Elite?"

She nodded. "Mr Woolsey spoke with John yesterday. They're fine, for now," she added with a touch of distracted concern.

"Is everything else okay?" Carson found himself pushing.

"Yes, just some interesting new developments with the Genii."

"They're not still mad at us for the Major's little "intervention" are the wedding are they?"

"Oh, I'm sure some of them are, but it seems that others are looking to extend an olive branch, at least with regard to exchanging intell on Kolya's whereabouts," she replied.

"That's a surprise."

"Maybe," Carter replied, her tone suggesting her mind was wandering off in deep thought. "Not that we have anything to offer on Kolya right now, but it might be worth us exchanging some of our intell on Genii sightings well beyond the Alliance."

"Somehow I have the feeling Kolya isn't just going to disappear quietly," Carson worried.

"I agree," she sighed. "Yet another issue to add to my report to the IOA."

"I shall leave you alone then," Carson suggested, feeling quite sorry for the woman. "Unless," he paused, "you'd like to join Rodney and me for a spot of fishing?" He glanced away to one photo that stood prominently in her office. That she and General O'Neill were fishing in the picture was obvious, but he wondered how many other people saw what else was in that picture.

"Thank you, Carson, but I've got a little too much to finish up here before I take the afternoon off." At least she was planning to rest this afternoon.

"There's no need to pretend," Carson told her, "I know the real reason why you don't want to go fishing."

Her face shifted into a deep worried frown for an instant.

"You don't want to be stuck with Rodney all day," Carson added and her frown evaporated.

"I don't know what you mean," she stated neutrally as she looked back to her work with a smile.

"Oh, aye, of course not," he smiled back. "Have a good day."

"You too, Carson. See you when you get back."

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Sweat slicked over John's forehead as he stepped back from the sparring drill.

He wiped his wristband over his forehead, absorbing the moisture and clearing his eyes.

He'd been through plenty of training sessions in his years of service, more than most USAF personnel in fact, and even before then he'd been pretty fit as a kid, always playing football, running, and surfing when he could. However, training with the Elite was an entirely new level of intensity.

Seifer was leading today's session, Tyoosi having only turned up for the initial warm up. After a fortunately short run and press up and sit up routine, Seifer had started taking them through the Elite's more specific anti-Wraith fighting techniques. As with yesterday, a lot of it was similar to John's training, but with a Wraith twist. However, Seifer demanded a speed and level of precision and flexibility that was new for John. At least the rest of the small gym's looked as exhausted as he felt right now.

Even Seeal was looking a little worse for wear compared to her full composure during yesterday's training session. It probably hadn't been the best decision to train with her, since she seemed annoyingly fast, but she had the same somewhat irreverent annoyance at Seifer's demand for precision that John shared. Plus, training with her meant he didn't have to work with the still clearly love lost Ford. The hyper giggling chatter between the two had really started getting on his nerves this morning.

The gym felt overly hot and had that thick stink of body odour and sweat as John reached down for his bottle of water. They'd all been given metal bottles of clean water this morning, since the crew were still apparently cleaning the water pipes out after the Attack of the Giant Robot Slug last night.

He'd been sleeping like a new cadet when the alarms had woken him last night. After tripping over Ketra and struggling to remember where the light switch was in Teyla's quarters, all he'd been able to do was stand and listen to the chitchat going back and forward through the wall mounted comms unit by the door. Apparently in an emergency situation everything was broadcast out of it for Teyla, so he'd at least been able to work out what was going on. Something had broken out of the hot water pipes and part of the ship had been flooding. Feeling completely useless and out of touch alone in Teyla's quarters, he'd listened to all the back and forth of worried orders, reports of power drains, and something trying to hack into the ship's computer.

He'd considered leaving Teyla's quarters, getting out into the corridors and talking to someone face-to-face, but, after his little break into the ship's bridge yesterday, he'd kept to Tyoosi' repeated explanations about following ship protocol. Tyoosi hadn't shouted at him and Ford following that breach of the ship's security, as John had expected from a Sumner-type. Instead, Tyoosi had explained that he respected that John and Ford were military trained and that they understood the importance of maintaining security and rules, and that he expected them to follow the same standard of honour. He had pointed out that they would only place themselves in risk and distract the crew by interjecting themselves into crisis situations.

John had hated that he had agreed with every word Tyoosi had said. In fact, Tyoosi had reminded John far too much of Colonel Carter in his calm, logical, and firm call on a sense of duty and responsibility. So last night, John had done what was best for the ship – he'd kept out of things, let people do their duties, and not get in the way.

He'd hated every second of it. Shut away, uninvolved, he'd drawn his spare bed closer to the wall comm and had just sat and listened to the crisis unfolding in which he was absolutely no help whatsoever.

Quickly enough, though it had felt like hours, the reports had changed to confirming that the invading "robot" had been neutralised. Orders and reports flew back and forth on the cleanup work that had apparently involved water spilling down two levels of the ship. Teyla's voice had been among the voices in the comm, and John had listened to her professional tone, calm and in control. She had sounded bluntly efficient as always, and her crew in turn were as well organised and competent as you'd expect from people working for the Alliance's "Elite" force.

And he'd had absolutely no role to play.

To say that it'd been frustrating didn't begin to cover it.

However, he had been thrown a bone, as he'd been called in to take a look at the slug robot that had done all the damage. He'd been more than eager to respond to the call, quickly changing and heading out with Ketra to see the new enemy. He'd had a chance that few others in the ship would have had in seeing the thing, and in overhearing a lot of the Elite's talk about it.

Except, he'd had absolutely nothing new to offer. He'd let them know that Atlantis hadn't seen anything remotely similar, or heard of anything like this new creature, and that had been his usefulness over. They'd probably have gotten more information from a Google search than from him.

He'd returned to Teyla's quarters with some new intell for Atlantis, but nothing else to show for the night's action. He'd been tired enough still to at least fall back to sleep quickly, but then he'd woken all too soon to the alarm he'd set on his watch. Feeling groggy, he'd gotten up to find that Teyla had returned from her shift, and an all new level of frustration had hit him.

The strained politeness between them was really starting to get to him. She looked tense all the time, glancing away from him constantly as if she didn't want him around – which he guessed she didn't. So, he'd tried to at least talk shop, but she hadn't been willing to tell him anything about the upcoming mission. Still in the dark about this big dangerous mission he was going to be entirely uninvolved with, he had tried to volunteer to help out. He'd done so plenty of times now with the Elite, but she'd shut him down.

She'd said it was too dangerous for him, like he was some precious little kid needing protection. It was if she didn't respect him for anything other than being her new Political Husband now.

He gulped down some water as he tried to pull his grumpy thoughts away from replaying that conversation as he had all morning since. The sparring protective padding around his neck and arms felt hot and annoying as he drank down his water and watched the rest of the gym sparring away.

At least everyone else looked as worn out as he felt.

He made sure not to watch Ford and Nevaeh flirting away as they sparred. He knew he'd be the universe's biggest hypocrite to tell Ford to back off from her, but then he was practically an expert on how to mess up relationships with alien women – or with all women in general really.

He pulled his eyes from the annoying cheerfulness of Ford's face, and his gaze moved back towards the lone figure watching from a doorway across the small gym.

The Elite Nalla had been watching throughout the session, just watching. John didn't have anything against the woman normally, but her watching purple eyes were more insightful than most, and it grated on him that the woman probably knew everything he was feeling. He didn't normally care about that fact around the obviously alien woman, but right now it felt like an invasion that was only just upping the grumbling agitated frustration he was feeling today.

He turned his back on the room as he set about putting the lid back on the metal bottle and setting it down with his towel. He crouched down and picked up the towel, wiping down his face and the back of his neck. Seifer didn't seem too strict about people taking breaks at least, and it wasn't like John hadn't been putting everything he had into the workout and training drills so far.

He took a breath - he needed to chill out. He was getting things out of proportion. He was a visitor on the ship and he needed to respect the ship's rules and regulations – just as Teyla was going to have to do in Atlantis. She'd been right that Sumner probably wasn't going to let her anywhere near anything remotely sensitive in the city. Hell, the Colonel would probably only let her go to the Mess, the Infirmary, or her own quarters. She was going to be as frustrated as he was, but that didn't really seem to help right now.

Hell, if something Wraith related happened while Teyla was in the city, he would damn well try to get her involved. She was trained to fight the Wraith, to kill Wraith Queens, so he hoped to hell that Carter and Sumner would utilise her.

He guessed that he didn't have quite the same skill set to bring to the party here though. Except, his piloting skills. He might be crap at relationships, keeping to the rules, and chilling out when he should, but he knew that he was a damn good pilot.

"Sheppard!" Seifer shouted across the gym. "Enough time wasting!"

John nodded over his shoulder to the Elite warrior. Seifer was sparring with one of the crew and had the poor guy in a headlock. In typical Elite style, Seifer had the guy in the lock, easily resisting the guy's attempts to break it, while still taking the time to keep tabs on John.

John got back up and threw his towel back towards his water as he headed back towards where Seeal was also returning to the sparring space.

Sure, Seifer didn't want him wasting time now, but that was all that was expected of him through the upcoming battle.

"You'd think they'd have better things to do than shout at us," Seeal muttered as Sheppard resumed his place opposite her.

"I think it's their favourite thing," John muttered back as he resumed the latest drills, swinging a Wraith style attack at Seeal. As before, she stepped forward into the attack, jabbed at the inside of his attacking arm before folding in an elbow strike to his padded and well covered throat. He tried not to grunt at the soft strikes to his arm. Even with the padding and pulling their punches, Seeal still had quite a strike to her

"Your turn," Seeal said unnecessarily as she started the drill again, this time being the one to throw the opening attack. He copied just what she had done, but his eyes strayed back to the watching Nalla as he completed the drill and stepped back from Seeal.

"Good," Seifer declared to the small but busy room. "Everyone increase your speeds; remember the Wraith can move considerably faster than you. Make the strikes precise and speed them up, but without loss of precision."

Now it was his turn again, John threw an attack at Seeal, a little bit faster this time.

What was the point of training him up like this if he was just going to be sat watching from the sidelines? If he was going to be an Elite's husband then he should be in with the fight, not wasting his skills waiting at home like a good house husband. Back home he'd been one of the top fighter pilots, he'd flown missions into territories most people on Earth didn't even know about, and he had flown more choppers into enemy territory than anyone else he'd trained with. He'd flown spaceships, Ancient ships, and even Darts. He was a resource that the Elite would be stupid to sit in a corner, and if Teyla wasn't going to-

He'd been going through the motions of throwing a punch, letting Seeal block and strike and then repeat, his mind disassociated from the action with years of training; except, suddenly Seeal threw an unexpected attack towards his face which broke through his distraction. With said years of experience, he dipped sideways, blocked and struck out in return. His punch had been loosely aimed at her padded neck, but she was turning away, twisting on the spot to avoid his attack, and he felt her strike the side of his head.

His head rattling, his already frayed nerves growled, he struck up at her, stepping in to shove her away. She did that twisting move thing again though, slipping around behind the attack vector of his elbow strike. She struck at the back of his arm, whilst simultaneously bringing a knee up at his middle.

He blocked the knee with his own and rammed a backhand strike at her. He managed to clip the side of her shoulder, but she had a grab of his shoulder padding and was trying to knee him again. He grabbed back, swinging them round to stop her attack, which brought the rest of the gym into his view. The others were all sparring normally, no one interested in the rather serious feeling attack that Seeal was directing at him.

Seeal shoved at him and he felt a sharp heel hit one of his shins.

The bubbling frustration from the morning suddenly had an outlet and, without a further thought, he willingly threw himself into the apparently free-for-all sparring session. If she wanted a fight, then he was happy to oblige.

Still having a hold of her shoulder padding, he wrestled her around, trying to get a foot around behind her leg to drop her. Her hand hit the side of his face, and then he felt a strike to his side, which most of the padding subdued. He let go of her with one hand and attempted to put her in an arm lock, twisting her away from him and getting a good hold on her arm.

Except she dropped down and around his side, and then suddenly she was somehow climbing him like a tree! One of her legs was around his back, and one arm was snaking its way around his neck trying for a lock.

He grabbed at her arm, pulling down hard and turning, trying to pull her down from him. He felt her leg give way slightly, so he tilted forward, employing a well practised throw to free her from him and body slam her to the padded mats under his feet.

It worked, but not all the way. She went over and down to the mats as planned, but so did some of his own padding and then his shoulder with it. He stumbled forward, one of his legs caught up in her limbs somehow and he was heading down towards the floor with her. He managed to turn in the air, dropping down onto his left shoulder to stop himself from crushing her with his full bodyweight.

They hit the mats harder than he'd expected, but the sudden rush of air leaving his lungs felt oddly good, oddly enlivening. Seeal twisted against him and an elbow dented his middle slightly and a hand was reaching at his face. He batted her away, twisting and throwing her off him, trying for a lock of his own around her neck, since that was the only part of her that he could find. A light punch hit his shoulder through the padding, forcing an unintended grunt out of his lungs, but he'd managed to get an arm around her neck.

Her responding double punches to his sides were not so light, and neither was the tap of her knee against his groin. Good thing he was wearing all this padding.

They wrestled for a moment, her nails digging into his arm, even through the padding. Then his chin snapped up, the blossoming pain making his vision dance for a second, and the haze gave her the moment to roll away from him.

Working freely with an instinct that was apparently let loose, he followed, scrambling after her, up and onto his feet again...and into her approaching punch. He countered and snapped out a jab at her face. He caught her on the cheek, but an elbow swung back at his and pain crushed into his right side. He stumbled back an inch and swung out two punches in fast sequence with a stamp kick at her closest knee. She blocked him well, and suddenly he realised he wasn't pulling his punches at all anymore. Pain echoed through his forearms as they exchanged a fast series of blows, and God knew what it would have felt like without the padding.

His own forearm clipped her elbow and he felt her give a little. He quickly followed with an upward palm strike, which was something he had learnt in the last two days, towards her face and another in quick succession. She dodged the first, but the second she barely blocked. He kept up his attack, stepping forward, pushing her back as she was forced to defend herself. Not that she wasn't landing hits of her own, it was just that they weren't stopping him and the rush of satisfaction in letting loose meant that he was just going for it now.

A kick to his side, where he had been hit repeatedly before, slowed him somewhat and then a punch landed right across his cheek.

The room swam around him, his vision dimming briefly before it snapped back, just in time to see another punch incoming. He got his arms up, blocked it and then jabbed out at her face. He felt the contact, but suddenly she was climbing him again – like she was half squirrel or something – and her arm was snaking around his throat and a knee was in his middle.

He struck at her, felt the hits landing, but her arm was successfully around his neck. He reached up and grabbed at her face, hoping for another throw, but she abruptly released him, jumping down and away.

He twisted round towards her retreat in an instant, his fists up ready for the next attack.

One didn't arrive though, instead she stood back, panting and one cheek slightly bruised. "Feel better?" She asked with a smile.

His battle focused brain took a second to register her words and meaning, and the reality of the gym around him returned. His body sang with adrenaline and he was panting hard. He did feel better.

He dropped his hands from his battle ready stance and shook them out. "You don't pull any punches, do you," he panted back at her, but he couldn't resist smiling. He really did feel better, like he'd reached a break in a roaring storm.

"I _was_ pulling them," she replied with a grin as she brushed her sleeve against her cheek and looked at it as if expecting blood. "You looked like you needed something to punch."

He felt faintly embarrassed. "Maybe," he admitted as he carefully stretched his slightly bruised side.

"One good thing about working on Dreamstation," Seeal replied as she rolled a shoulder, "was that there was no shortage of idiots who would do something stupid and give you an excuse to hit them." He had to grin at that. "Besides, I wanted to learn something about Earth fighting skills."

"And?" John asked with interest. The rest of the gym was carrying on as usual, no one having noticed the aggressive free-for-all. Or maybe it was completely normal here.

"Good skills," she summarised and he felt a little bit proud of himself with that compliment. At least someone was appreciating something about him at the moment.

Except he became aware of some attention across the gym and he looked round to see that Nalla was still stood in the far doorway, but had been joined by Oneakka. When had he turned up?

Both the Elite were looking in his direction, and Nalla inclined her head faintly.

Was that directed at him? He glanced round to Seeal, but she had moved away to get some water. He looked back to the Elite, but they were talking to each other, their attention refocused, their interest in him lost already.

He turned away himself, the padding around his check catching at his chin. His formally evaporated annoyance returned in an instant and he reached around his neck to tug free the clips holding the padded in place.

As he pulled it free, Seeal returned to his side and offered him his own water as she drank from hers. He took it gratefully.

"He's good," Seeal said, indicating Ford sparring across the gym. "Slower than you, needs some more experience."

John nodded as he swallowed. "He prefers weaponry, explosives that kind of thing."

"They teach you about that in Earth military?" Seeal asked as she pulled off the thick padding from around her own neck and upper chest.

"Some of us," John replied as he gently touched the sore bruise under his chin. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"The worst places," she replied, her eyes moving to where Seifer was striding into the centre of the room.

"Enough," Seifer called and everyone stopped their sweaty work to look round. John was pleased to see that the Elite warrior was sweating himself at least. "Good enough work for now," Seifer stated doubtfully. "You had better do better later when the Sythus faces the Wraith for real. Remember always that the Wraith's power is in their hands. Disable the feeding hands above everything else, in whatever way you can."

"Because it's that easy," Seeal muttered quietly, her tone telling him she had some personal experience in that area.

"I've found putting a ton of bullets in them works good too," John whispered back to her. She smiled as she pulled off her arm padding.

"Wash up, eat if you have to, and get to your work stations," Seifer was ordering. "Go!" He concluded and the gym began to clear in an instance.

John turned to find Ford across the room, but, in typical form, the kid was too busy chatting up Nevaeh to notice.

"Told you yesterday," Seeal muttered to him as she moved to walk past, "he's a write off now."

John trusted Ford to focus when the time mattered, but for now he kind of had to agree with Seeal. The kid was laughing a little too loudly at something Nevaeh said and the young woman was touching his arm as she laughed and touched her hair.

He wondered if he had been that obvious around Teyla in the past. He hoped he hadn't, but it had become apparent in the last couple of days that Ford, Carter, and clearly Torren too had all been aware of the affair. He wished he didn't feel quite so exposed, or stupid as he did.

What had he expected to happen? He'd known from the start that she was an Elite warrior, that she had more important things to do that play with him. And he had more important things to do too – like actually get some real intell for Atlantis and do something useful while he was on this damn ship.

If this was going to be his future now, then he was going to start as he meant to go on. He and Ford were useful here, and he wasn't going to damn well sit quietly out of the way. If Teyla wasn't going to say something, then he would.

He grabbed up his towel and strode towards where Nalla and Oneakka were still stood watching.

Woolsey would probably freak at this, but if John was going to die out here in unknown stars, then he was going to go down doing the right thing. He wasn't going to sit quietly and go gently into this good night – he was a fighter and he had something to offer.

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TBC


	38. A New Perspective

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**Chapter 38 – A New Perspective**

Nalla loved the Sythus.

It had been her home for many years now, years through which she had been a part of perhaps thousands of missions. Here she had a place in the galaxy that was secure and familiar, full of purpose and respect.

For such things were vitally important to her, for she was one of a kind. Her people of Pelydr were advanced and powerful in ways that most were unaware, but were, almost by definition, extraordinarily peaceful. Violence was so rare on her homeworld that she could not recall when the last incident had been, and she was far older than she appeared to outsiders.

Having lived now fifty years by the Alliance standard yearly cycle, it had taken almost half of that time to come to terms with her destiny.

She was the first warrior born among her people in twice living memory – and since the eldest of her race was in excess of three hundred years of age, it had been a considerable amount of time. For a being born among peace and kindness, to find that she had skills for violence and killing had been very difficult. Many among the elder circles had discussed her being of ill health, of being an anomaly, but the wisest of the planet had seen the truth of her birth. She was to be a part of the Elite army and her application to join the Elite recruits had been decided by her world, not just by her.

She had not been overly pleased with her destiny initially. Yet, once she had begun her training, she had discovered how far she could push her innate heightened agility and physical strength. It had given her sudden and real purpose in her life that extended beyond her more obvious gift of being an empath.

She was well aware that it had been that empathic gift that had been the real reason why the Elite had accepted her application, though in truth no one would have denied her people's request. However, it was her gift that was thought to be of far more value to the Elite. The ability to sense the emotions of everyone around her at all times was seen as a very useful tool to have at the Elite's call.

Yet, few were aware of what life was like for an empath whose job it was to kill. To feel the pain, anger, and fear in the creature that you killed was a weight that had taken some years to be able to bear. However, she was used to such struggles for it had taken her many long years of her youth to come to terms with her gift. She had been a very young child when she had first begun to experience the constantly shifting and exploding emotional states of those around her, and it had been overwhelming. And that had been among her own people who were the most emotionally healthy and stable in the galaxy!

To her, each individual expressed a type of three dimensional web of vibrating emotions, which shifted like breezes through open air, constantly shifting with the tides of thought and in reaction to the world around them. Each person was a complex web of interacting emotional states that had taken her years to feel comfortable around, let alone read and understand.

Her mother, a healer of great regard, had been exceptionally patient and had been the first web that Nalla had felt comfortable with and had been able to fully understand. As a young child, Nalla remembered asking her mother about everything she felt, such as why her web changed in the present of a flower. Mother had sat with her by the beautiful flower in question and had described her feelings towards it, that it moved her soul and made her think of her own Father, who had been skilled in growing things. Nalla had listened intently and felt her mother's love and grief, and had begun to realise her own power that day. She had realised that she had felt further emotions in Mother that she herself had not appeared aware. Whereas Mother had felt joy and grief to speak of her Father, Nalla had also sensed regret and shame, which Mother had realised was because she wished she had shared her father's gift for nurturing and growing things. So, at the age of five cycles, Nalla had helped her mother see something about her own emotions, and had in turn helped her mother see that she _was_ skilled in nurturing and helping things grow, because she was helping Nalla.

It had taken a further two decades of developing her empathic skills before she had been ready to join the Elite training programme. As a feeling warrior, it had been a struggle, but it had been her place, her destiny. And among the Elite, she had found a place where she was respected and accepted, and no more so than here on the Sythus. The warriors here, and many of the crew, were like family. They were a constant in her life, all dedicated to one mission: working together to protect life. It was a vibrant and purposeful place with people she loved, and the ship had become a true home to her.

She knew all the emotional webs within it, and sometimes she felt as if there was an overriding combined web to the Sythus created by all those that also called it home. It renewed and regenerated her in ways that nothing before had done except the presence of her Mother.

However, for some months now Nalla had been asked to sit upon the newly formed Military Council and therefore had been away from the Sythus. With her unique skills and being a face of the highly respected Pelydr had assisted in helping the establishment and acceptance of the Military Council by the resistant High Council. However, her rotation term working on the Council was finally complete, as Jobrill had taken over the role for a rotation. After that, Emmagan would take a rotation again, so it would be some months until Nalla would serve on the Council again.

Which meant that she was back again on the Sythus, her true home, and she had very much needed to return to its renewing welcome. Her work with the Military Council had been demanding and frustrating at times. She knew she had done good work, but she was a warrior and her place was back here with her fellow warriors. It had only been the ability to take regular visits to Pelydr and seeing Mother that had kept her sane among the convoluted and difficult emotional webs of politicians. As a group they were difficult, concealing, manipulative, and controlling. On the Military Council at least, the Councillors themselves were warriors of great experience, but that only added more frustration to the mix for they too preferred to be in battle with the Wraith rather than with other humans.

Therefore, stepping back on to the Sythus had been a great relief for her...except, she had discovered that in her absence the combined web of the ship had completely changed. It had been quite a shock to her extrasensory self. She had spent her first night back on the ship in isolation so she could reacquaint herself with the changes, identify them and come to terms with them.

After a few days back, she was now used to the new combined web, but was still discovering the subtle differences within the ship. Although the ship still felt familiar and relaxing, it also felt as if everything had changed. It was a surprising and intriguing situation. Secretly, she had been quite pleased at the repeated delays to the mission to reach Lantana, as it had given her more time to catalogue the changes in the Sythus.

Foremost she had identified a generalised discontent among the crew at large following the discovery of another traitor amongst them – Karthig. There was also an itching kind of nervousness among the crew in the revealing of Halfan's embezzling from the ship's stores and that the secret crew meeting place had been discovered. Nalla had been well aware of the little room the crew had used in the Store Room for their intimate meetings, though a few had used it simply to have some quiet time away from the rest of the crew. Living in barracks took a toll on even a dedicated crew as those of the Sythus, and little had been provided for intimate relationships among their number. She had detected no malicious intent to the use of the room, though she had been mistaken in reading Halfan.

She had thought his deceptiveness had been because he had been running the private room for the crew, but she had not realised he had in fact also been embezzling from the Elite. Though she could read emotions easily, she could not read thoughts, so the mixed details of his deception had been lost on her. She was annoyed at herself for that, but it was hardly the first time such confusion had occurred. She was almost used to it. People, with very few exceptions, were often filled with deceptiveness. People did not always tell the truth, for their lives were their own to share, and often people were deceptive with themselves, pretending certain things did not affect them. She suspected that being an empath was far more complicated that being a mind reader. She would have to compare notes with some next time she visited Pelydr.

However, reading minds was not entirely necessary in reading the new web of the Sythus. The changes were obvious, though many for her to study.

To help ease the crew's subtle discontent, she was pleased to note that they had acquired another room for private use. Tyoosi had been involved in establishing it, though she sensed that he would not admit as such if she were to ask him. That, along with yesterday's encounter with the new Seed ship and last night's events, meant that the crew were slipping back into a far more familiar focus today. They were all honourable and determined to prove themselves, even more so after Karthig and Halfan.

The crew aside, the remaining new changes on the Sythus could be dividing into two categories – the Elite themselves and the new "Strays". It was amusingly ironic to Nalla that it was in fact the Elite who were the most currently conflicted, whereas their crew were recovering far quicker from the new changes.

The Elite, as a group, had reasonably focused emotional webs, as was required for their roles, but when strong emotion hit them, it often hit them hard. Nalla suspected that to be due to their training. In being so purely minded, the Elite were not quite as skilled at dealing with the more complicated social and philosophical life questions that the average person dealt with.

However, even with that in mind, even the most stable of the Sythus Elite was currently feeling disturbed. Teyla Emmagan was normally a very calm and emotionally centred warrior, but that was certainly not the case at the moment. Currently, Teyla was a conflicted, tightened, constrained, and pain-filled creature, and the cause was obvious to Nalla.

The sexual relationship Teyla had built with the Earth man Sheppard was over, and the vibrations of heartbreak were familiar in Teyla's web. However, with Sheppard now on the Sythus, that heartbreak was warring with a very hard controlling power in her. She was controlling herself, cutting her emotional needs away, and trying to feel right about it. Sheppard's presence was like a knife continuously opening a wound that she was struggling to heal up, and the conflicting pain, anger, heartbreak and control was almost too discomforting for Nalla to be around. Not that she needed to be in Teyla's presence – she could reach out now and feel Teyla's part of the whole.

Nalla stretched her senses into that feeling now, aware that Teyla was currently alongside Si' emotional web. Si was something of a rock to Nalla. His emotions were very powerful, but very accepted by him. He let them flow like drifting in the flow a river. She knew that he found some of this calm by fully indulging in his sensuous side when he could. A collection of close female friends were his lovers, and had been for years, and when he was able to visit Athos, he enjoyed as much time as he could with them. Nalla always enjoyed the difference in him before and after those visits. As the time to visit them approached, she would feel the bubbling sexual needs and excitement under his calm surface, and then once he returned, he was like the most peaceful of happy still waters. He was always a blessing to be around. However, even Si, was currently not as calm as usual. He was concerned – concerned about a lot of things and it played multiple discords within his web.

Also near Si now, only a few floors away from her, she could feel Halling. She was quite concerned about Halling, as she sensed the others were as well. Yet, unlike them, she sensed that what bothered Halling was profoundly deep and troubling – he was terrified. Elite were not used to being so fearful and he was struggling with it. He had not chosen to share his concerns with her, or with anyone else yet, which was a little hurtful to Nalla. She was well aware of her own web and that she had a weakness for Halling. He had no idea of her attraction to him, and she saw no need to pursue it. She liked his logical mind, his calm yet passionate emotional web, and his very kind way of dealing with people. They were good friends and colleagues and she greatly valued that relationship, and feeling no need to establish a sexual relationship with him, she had not shared her feelings. Though, that he was choosing not to share his current worries with her hurt her a little. He usually confided in her, but in this current situation he only feared her awareness of his troubles. She had kept a distance from him, providing the time and space he felt he needed to think over the issue by himself. She hoped he sought assistance soon before the terror might overwhelm him entirely.

Speaking of terror brought her awareness back to the room before her. Having looked at the changes to her Elite colleagues, she had chosen to spend some time looking at the new "Strays" during their training session this morning. All of them were here, with the exception of Ru and the goat.

Ru, the new Lead Engineer, was a very interesting man. His appearance and social behaviour provided the view of an introverted and isolated man, whose sole focus was his work. However, his web told her otherwise. He was very confident in his abilities, he loved his work in a way that was simply a part of him, yet he simply did not feel part of the crew. He was not a warrior by nature, but he served a vital role in providing the technology and advancements that the Elite highly respected. He enjoyed that, but also enjoyed his own view of life. However, she had detected that he was quite excited about the arrival of the other Strays onto the ship. He felt more of a kinship with them, enjoying the differences of them compared to military crew. He also appeared to find Seeal quite attractive and enjoyed her company. That could present a future problem, but Nalla would watch and see how matters evolved.

Seifer shouted an order across the gym, and she focused her senses upon him. She had trained with Seifer for many years, but he had only joined the Sythus when she had been assigned to the Military Council. Now that they had lost Kari, he would remain. He liked to express himself as unique, appearance important to him, but that was often the way with those born among the Vancet worlds. The cultures there placed huge importance upon appearances, and even though he had been trained as an Elite from youth, that tendency was still present. Today, he was focused on the training before him, but also nervous. He had been a driving force in the mission in Outer Lantana, and he had been part of the original plan to deal with the Nest System. He was concerned about the success, but he was also nervous about where the goat might be. The fear he felt around the creature told Nalla that he likely had had some childhood trauma with a similar animal. The others found his attempt at hiding his fear amusing, considering he was a powerful experienced Elite warrior, but none truly understood the amusement as much as Nalla.

The goat in question was a fascinating creature, which had found its way onto the Sythus without anyone bringing it here. Oneakka had had some idea about using such animals in the Hydroponics Bay, but had not intentionally brought the creature back with him. It had instead followed him and Halling here. It was very intelligent, in a soft curious way. It was not unlike a smart child, looking to understand and explore the universe. It seemed to wander the ship, just simply to look, study and understand. It liked people, and most of the crew had interacted with it now, and most found its presence endearing. A few, like Seifer wanted it off the ship, but most liked it. The goat seemed to particularly like Oneakka, perhaps because it had been Oneakka that had first found it, or purchased it - the Elite males could not quite remember through their drunken memories of Belkan how the purchase of the goat had come about. Either way, the goat seemed to see Oneakka as something like the head of its herd, and consequently liked to visit him regularly.

She smiled as she considered that perhaps Oneakka fulfilled that role for others here without him realising.

Madesh was the most obvious example. She had worked with Madesh several times now and highly approved of his joining the crew. He had a near overwhelming need to serve the Elite, to make a difference, and to prove Oneakka's faith in him. Madesh was a fascinating mix of humble honour combined with fixed determination, and as such he was a lovely matrix of emotions to witness. She closed her eyes from the sparring drills and just focused on Madesh's web, drinking in the purity of his sense of honour and service. He had made mistakes in the past, but here he had purpose, he had peace.

She felt some kinship and sympathy for him, for he too had an unusual and special gift. He had a powerful way of looking into someone's eyes and seeing their very being, seeing truth, as she did, that even the person concerned might be unaware. He was a very useful resource, but had a difficult relationship with his gift. She had spoken with him about it before now and would continue to in the future. For, it served to isolate him from others. Seen as a human lie detector, he was feared by others, and she understood how that felt. Yet, among the Strays, Madesh appeared to be finding some sense of belonging.

Unsurprisingly, much of that kinship was shared with Seeal. Nalla opened her eyes and focused on the woman in question. Where Madesh had purpose, Seeal was desperately seeking it. Her web was complex, and, rather like Si, though she appeared calm and almost bored by the world around her, under the surface she was overflowing with emotions. There was a huge amount of control and restraint within the woman, no doubt built from years of protecting herself from emotional and physical trauma. Having had no place in the universe, felt no kinship, she was now drawn towards the hope of having faith in something beyond herself. Through the tight control inside, hope was leaching out, revealing to Nalla that beneath it all lay a deep well of pain, posturing, strength, and fear that was no doubt quite difficult for the woman to deal with.

The other Elite had asked Nalla if Seeal was a threat, and she had been quite truthful in reporting that she was not. If anything, it was the Elite and the other Strays that were a threat to Seeal and her control. Among them she was allowing that hope out, feeling drawn towards the honour and service that Madesh swam in joyfully. She felt out of place, yet below it was a raging restrained yearning to have a place to call home.

Yearning was perhaps a good summary of the Strays, even among the two men from Atlantis. Nalla shifted her gaze to them now, fascinated to yet again be able to watch Earth emotional webs. As she had discovered in working with them before, and in visiting Atlantis herself, those from the other galaxy were just as human as those from this galaxy. Their webs were the same in structure, although in these two particular males, there was a particularly strong sense of duty and need for justice. It was typical in warriors of any world, and she found it very pleasing to sense in these two.

However, the younger male, as clear and focused as his web could be, was currently very much focused on one particular woman. He and Nevaeh's webs created a quite distracting display of sexual emotions as they sparred with each other. It was typical of the first untempered emotions of such things. It was intense for them both, engaging them both fully, though she suspected it would pass just as quickly.

Nevaeh was a very loyal and clever crew member, and Nalla knew there would be no loss of loyalty with an affair, but she suspected it was the uniqueness of Ford that interested her the most. As it did many – these were men from another galaxy. Ford in turn was not as comfortable on the Sythus as he projected. The distraction of Nevaeh was welcome for him, giving him something else to focus on and enjoy away from his worries, yet his loyalty was also not up for question. He was very proud of his people and his home planet. The rush of love and determination was powerful from him at the mere mention of Atlantis or Earth. It was honest and beautifully pure with youth. He also was no threat to the Elite, but he would always place his people first; especially his superior officer, and clearly a friend, Major Sheppard.

Nalla turned her attention to the final member of the new Strays.

She had met Sheppard before of course, and had seen him in the height of battle and stress. He always seemed to her to be a very gentle man for a warrior, his emotions kind and having a certain humorous joy for the world which belayed a deeper lack of self confidence. However, his confidence and faith in his warrior skills was undoubted. He was highly intelligent and respectful of people, but was also a man of action, needing to have purpose, which placed him in good company on the Sythus.

However, today his web was also different than it had been before. The heartbreak she felt in Teyla was echoed in him, and his feeling of hurt, anger, and frustration were not unlike sharp fingernails across Nalla's senses. He was a torrid mix of regret, doubt, disappointment, but also still love. It was in amongst the emotions like a sparkling centre surrounded by a deep sense of loss.

She sensed that he particularly held onto the feelings of loss, as if they were familiar for him. In her experience, many people held onto past emotional pains like old friends, and they moved their lives around that familiarity in ways that were not always healthy. Today, Sheppard did not feel emotionally healthy. He felt rather like a trapped animal, pacing, angry and lost.

Yet, despite all that bubbling away inside of him, he was still sparring with a determination of focus that spoke of years of training. He moved his body easily and with precision that she suspected was lost on him. He was a driven man and she wondered what in his past had made him so determined to fight against everything. Were he not so kind and honourable to his soul, such a mix might have turned another man into a dark twisted individual, lost in past pain.

She drew her senses from him, not wishing to focus on his pain anymore, and instead she focused out her senses to find something else in the web of the ship to calm her nerves. She was drawn towards the simple sensations of the goat. It was wandering the ship again this morning, looking, seeking. Except she sensed it was hungry, which would mean it would be headed towards the Hydroponics Bay. Nalla had sat in the Bay yesterday and enjoyed watching the goat play with Ketra, Teyla's pet. The two creatures enjoyed one another, like two likeminded individuals who had found each other amongst a boring crowd.

Ketra was quite different to the goat, and Nalla had had the privilege of watching the dragon grow and develop. Nalla had visited Athos recently and had walked into the depths of one particular forest in which Ketra's species were known to live. She had found them easily due to their emotional webs and she had spent a day with them in order to understand them and Ketra further. The visit had allowed her to conclude that Ketra was quite usual for her species, but at the same time slightly more developed. For Ketra was more like a person to Nalla's senses that any animal she had ever encountered before. Ketra's emotional web was as complex and interesting as a human's, and through it, Nalla felt something not all that different from what she felt around Seekers, such as Teyla. Nalla suspected that the two had a more powerful psychic link that Teyla realised, which Nalla had felt shared between the wild dragons in the forest. Well known to be able to hunt Wraith, it was believed that they had a similar gift to Seekers that allowed them to hunt their prey.

Ketra was highly protective of Teyla. Nalla was not sure if Ketra thought of Teyla as her mother or as the head of her group. Either way, Ketra loved Teyla deeply and was highly defensive of anyone she felt might be encroaching on Teyla's space. The only exceptions were Teyla's family, the other Sythus Elite, who Ketra had grown up around and respected, and, more recently, Sheppard. That the dragon had accepted Sheppard so quickly perhaps confirmed Nalla's theory that there was a stronger psychic or emotional bond between Ketra and Teyla. Ketra seemed to understand Sheppard's importance to Teyla, even if the Elite warrior was currently trying to suppress such feelings. Such closeness made Nalla worry to think what might happen to Ketra if Teyla died – the dragon's life revolved around her. At least Ketra had a new friend in the goat, and Nalla watched their webs only a few floors away as the two animals met up and danced around with joy in the Bay. At least some were happy on the Sythus at the moment.

With her senses expanded, she became aware of a most distinctive emotional web moving towards her.

She drew her awareness back to the training hall and focused on Oneakka moving down the corridor towards the doorway in which she stood.

Of all the emotional webs she had observed, Oneakka's had always been the most obvious. He was extraordinarily blunt in his approach to life, and that directness was reflected in his web. He was as strong and confident inside as he presented on the outside, which was very unusual in her experience. His emotional web was strong, intelligent, curious, calm, confident, and lonely. Yet, his web was not only straightforward in the directness of his feelings, but in how he processed new feelings. If a worry arose in him, he addressed it outwardly or inwardly and it would pass. If doubt appeared, he expressed it, did something about it, and it would simply disappear from within his web. He had a purity of feeling, a directness of intent that she had never been around before. She suspected he had developed the skill from his past in which he had faced the worst events most could imagine and had seen his way through it. He had survived injuries that would kill most, and had been left with scars that, though echoed inwards, did not blindly drive him. He understood them, accepted their existence in him, but did not let them drive him.

There was little that he needed from life, other than to do everything he turned his mind on to his fullest ability. Nothing could get in his way if he was determined, and he knew it. It was a strong power that he accepted, expressed without words, and used to his fullest.

Of all the Elite, he was the most at peace with the fact that he could die in battle at any point. He had told her once, very honestly, that he had already felt the touch of death, had stood in the doorway out of this life, and consequently returning to that point held no fear for him. That experience, of losing every single one of his people, had also given him a single focus on ensuring that no one else lost as he had done. It gave him purpose like none other.

That purpose, that purity of awareness of what he felt and could do, shone like a light from him, and Nalla had always enjoyed being around him. That he felt a sexual draw to her had never gotten in the way of that enjoyment of his presence. He had made an offer years ago and she had made it clear he was a good friend but nothing more for her. He had accepted it without hurt, but the sexual interest was always there, gently humming in the air of his web.

He was a pure light of determination and confidence, and she loved his company, even enjoying the subtle attraction in his web.

Yet, as with the rest of the crew and Elite, even Oneakka had changed.

It was shocking to her how a few months away could change so much, but even her stable, directly blunt favourite emotional web had changed.

As he approached her now, moving into place at her side in the open doorway, she took in the changes to his web, feeling the shifts of his emotions in the new ways that they moved and flowed through him.

Selfishly, the first change to him that she noticed was that the sexual hum towards her was almost entirely absent now, and in its place was a warmth of affection that was perhaps far more pleasing. His desire for her had transformed into something more stable and perhaps more true.

The reason was in the training hall.

It had shocked her to feel this change in him, for she had thought herself well versed in his low and direct sexual desires. He had enjoyed women in the past, but it had been a mutual use, one easily fulfilled and only when he desired to indulge, which had not been often. He had never seemed to need to be desired by others or to seek the physical touch of another. That had now changed.

She glanced at him beside her. As usual, he was stood silently, confidently, his expression closed and his arms crossed. Yet, through his web, she could feel all his attention was directed on one woman across the hall.

Whereas before he had displayed clear, direct emotions, now she felt his focus was sharp, primal, and around it slithered concern, doubt, nervousness and anger. He did not like how he felt with this new complex display of emotions inside him. Yet, he watched Seeal with a focus that Nalla had rarely seen away from couples who had been together for years.

She wondered if he understood what the complex mix meant.

His web shifted, aggression flaring briefly and dying away. She looked round, wondering what had caused his reaction, to find that Seeal and Sheppard were properly sparring now. Fists were flying, elbows and knees impacting. Nalla watched the fight with professional interest, impressed with both of them.

Yet, as Sheppard's fist caught one side of Seeal's face, Oneakka's web flared with aggression again. Nalla glanced at him worriedly, knowing that usually he would react outwardly aggressively if he felt as much, but he hadn't moved an inch. His eyes were focused intently on the fight though, watching with a frown that looked more critical than angry to the outside world.

His attention shifted and she sensed that he was aware of her attention. She witnessed annoyance and self-consciousness flash around his web before he caught control of them. She had never before sensed self-consciousness in him!

His blue eyes shifted into view, focusing on her with a questioning look.

She decided to face the situation directly, as he preferred to do, usually.

"I see I have been replaced in your affections," she stated with a smile, knowing no one else would overhear them.

Embarrassment coursed loudly through Oneakka's web, shocking them both. He looked away from her quickly. "I don't feel that way for Sheppard," he stated, joking in an attempt to distract.

Nalla stared at his profile. "Did you just make a joke about an emotional situation?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Oneakka stated. At least he was still speaking directly, if not sharing.

"As you wish," Nalla replied as she redirected her attention to the fight session across the hall. It seemed that none of her friends wished to share their feelings at the moment. She tried not to feel rejected; after all it was not as if she didn't know what they were feeling. They all had their right to privacy over their thoughts.

In silence, they watched as Seeal and Sheppard shoved apart, the two facing off and smiling at each other. The fight was over. Nalla felt the wash of relief and some affection between the two at their shared experience.

Beside Nalla, pride burst through Oneakka's web, and she suspected a small part of it was for Sheppard.

"He is interesting," Nalla commented to Oneakka. "I can see why Teyla likes him."

Oneakka glanced at her, a smile once again returning now that he was over his self-consciousness. She felt Sheppard's web shift though and she looked round to find him looking towards her and Oneakka. The Earth man was deeply uncomfortable each time he looked at her today, which was a feeling she was quite used to, yet there was a returning sense of dissatisfaction and frustration growing in the man again.

She inclined her head to him, showing some respect in hopes that he understood the compliment. However, she suspected he was too caught up in his heartbreak and frustration to understand.

"I think he should stay," Oneakka stated.

"Sheppard?" Nalla asked looking at him.

"Yes," Oneakka stated, his blue eyes bright against his pale complexion and dark tattoos.

"Not anyone else?" Nalla pushed.

He looked away from her, annoyance and embarrassment filling his web again. He really had no intention of talking about Seeal.

"Madesh is staying of course," Nalla noted. "He is doing well."

"Not fitting in with the crew though," Oneakka commented.

"Since when do you care about such things?" She asked with curious surprise.

"I don't," Oneakka replied as Seifer called an end to the training session. "_Madesh_ needs others though."

Nalla studied him in that moment, wondering about his conflicting emotions. "Everyone needs someone; people around them."

Oneakka kept his gaze directed forward and a heavy blanket of calm filled his web. He did not want to talk about the subject, and she was almost convinced he had purposefully drawn up the calmness in an attempt to block her out. He had never done that before.

She felt slightly hurt as she focused on the hall, watching the crew packing up their things and leaving, all nervously excited about the approaching mission.

"I have people around me," Oneakka said into the silence between them, and she felt that new affection for her show a little and, around it, regret. She took the combination to be an apology and her hurt dropped away.

Oneakka's focus shifted away and she looked round to see that Sheppard was heading towards them. His web was intensifying with each step, his determination growing with his frustration.

"He wants something," she informed Oneakka as they watched him approach.

"Yeah, I've got eyes," Oneakka replied as he glanced at her, but the teasing tone made her smile. He was glad she was no longer focused solely on him.

As he strode towards them, Sheppard's direction had finally been noticed by Ford, who was now quickly scurrying up behind him to support his superior. Confusion and worry plagued the younger man's web.

"Honoured Elite," Major Sheppard greeted them politely despite the torrential emotions moving through him.

"Sheppard," Oneakka replied. "You need to be careful who you start a fight with."

Amusement and a touch of embarrassment moved through Sheppard's web. Yet, it was clear to Nalla that he respected Oneakka and valued his opinion.

"Sure, but she started it."

"I'm sure she did," Oneakka murmured glaring off towards where Seeal was gathering up her things. He sounded angry, but he was in fact feeling proud again - along with a flash of sexual energy. "Something on your mind, Sheppard?" He asked though, immediately redirecting his attention to the men before him.

Sheppard flicked the length of his towel up over his shoulder. "Yeah, about this big battle we're going to be heading into." Nalla watched with fascinated interest at the movement of emotions through Sheppard. He was feeling out of place, worried, nervous and afraid of something.

"I'm not sure what you're plan is going up against the Wraith," Sheppard continued, his hands on his hips on a stance that appeared calm and confident from the outside. "But, Ford and me," he glanced round at his colleague, who nodded confidently in return though he had no idea what his superior was going to say. "We want to help."

"How?" Oneakka asked immediately.

Nalla took a breath. "Major Sheppard, you are essentially a political figure now. It is not advisable for you to put yourself in danger. To do so would put the Marriage Contract at risk."

The man's green eyes turned to her, meeting her gaze with a directness that stated loudly that he wasn't going to let his nervousness around her stop him. "With all due respect, Honoured Elite, the contract is signed. If Honoured Elite Emmagan or I die, the contract still holds, right?"

The burst of love at simply saying Emmagan's name had almost been a slap to the face it had been so sudden and loud for Nalla. She took a calming breath while Sheppard's emotions calmed around the subject of his political wife.

"Indeed," Nalla admitted.

"So, put us to work," Sheppard repeated, and now the desperation was obvious surely even to Oneakka.

"I am not so sure that your superiors in Atlantis, and back on your home planet, would feel so flippant if you were to be killed," Nalla reminded him.

"With all due respect," he repeated, "we're military, and they wouldn't have put us here with you guys without knowing what could happen. Atlantis won't blame you."

He said it confidently, but there was a small slither of doubt through his web.

"We can help," he insisted. "We can hold our own, you've seen that."

Nalla glanced at Oneakka, aware from his web that Oneakka already agreed with Sheppard.

"And I'm a good pilot," Sheppard pushed. "You've seen that." Nalla remembered well enough how the man had managed to land the doomed Hastos. His piloting skills had been exceptional, especially considering he had never previously flown an Alliance vessel.

"You crashed the Hastos," Oneakka stated, affection and amusement dancing through his emotions. It was strange to see him enjoying Sheppard's company so much when back at that time when all three of them had walked out of the downed Hastos Oneakka had been ready to kill Sheppard as a spy.

"Anything you can walk away from is a landing, not a crash," Sheppard stated back with that warming purr of humour that vibrated through his web. "I've landed in far worse conditions: wind, rain, and volcanic ash."

Nalla felt Oneakka's focus shift instantly.

"There's not a bird back home I've not flown-" Sheppard continued.

"You have experience in piloting in strong winds?" Oneakka interrupted. Nalla glanced at him, guessing what he was thinking.

Sheppard paused. "Definitely. I've flown over ice, sea, and sand. Even did an exchange stint on an aircraft carrier, hardly any Air Force pilots get to do that."

"Aircraft carrier?" Nalla asked. His pride had flared on the mention of it.

"It's a large ocean ship, a warship, with a flight deck from which you can take off and land aircraft," Sheppard explained.

"On the ocean?" she repeated, impressed.

Sheppard nodded. "Right out at sea in the rolling waves. I've landed in wind and rain, and in the dark." He was very confident in his skills and she could feel the excited hope that he could indeed assist in the mission.

Oneakka looked round at her, meeting her gaze. "It would free up one of the primary pilots for the Sythus," he considered.

"He would have to be a secondary pilot," she noted. "And Emmagan would have to agree."

Sheppard's joyful hopefulness shifted into blazing annoyance in an instant.

"She'll agree," Oneakka dismissed instantly, but Nalla had to wonder if she would. Teyla would be on the same mission, and with two Transport craft, she would have to choose whether to be in the same team as her Political Husband or not.

Despite the conflicting and pain-filled emotions the couple shared regarding each other, under that turmoil there remained a still strong and powerful affection; a love that she suspected would not be so easily ignored in the height of danger. Would it be a good idea to place them in the same mission?

It would be up to Teyla to decide, because the truth was that they could use a pilot with Sheppard's skill. If Nalla had not seen him at the helm of the former Hastos she might not have agreed, but his landing of the broken ship, saving her life as well as the others, had made an indelible mark in her mind. She doubted the others would disagree, since he was clearly a useful resource, and the younger Ford would remain on the Sythus.

The training hall now empty behind them, Seeal the last to leave having paused to look back at their little meeting, Nalla focused all her senses on Sheppard.

Determination, confidence, and desperate need coursed through him, making him seem not unlike the strongest of warriors she had met before. She had no problem imaging him having the concentration and experience required for the piloting that might be ahead of him.

Most might have sat back and watched the upcoming battle from a place of safety, but he wanted to be involved, wanted to be useful and make a difference.

In Nalla's opinion, as an Elite warrior Teyla had made a very good choice of a Political Husband. If all in Atlantis turned out to be as courageous as him, then perhaps this new contract might indeed bring about real change in the fight against the Wraith.

And how ironic that this was occurring just on the eve of perhaps the most decisive battle against the Wraith in a long time...

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TBC


	39. Facing Truth

**Note:** Thought I'd post one more chapter for the weekend – this is especially because of a request from my friend Camy. She apparently needs another fix to help her through a bad situation last week, and I have a feeling that she'll particularly like this chapter too ;) Besides, the action is fast approaching, so got to get some momentum going...

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**Chapter 39 – Facing Truth**

Everything was packed in the Jumper ready to go. Humming happily to himself, Carson closed up the spare tackle box he had borrowed off Captain Simmons and stored it carefully away under one of the Jumper's benches.

He stood back and ran his eye over everything one last time to be sure he had everything. All he needed now was to pick up some food to take with them and go collect Rodney. They had the Jumper set aside all day, so there was no hurry to leave, but the sooner the better to get out to the Mainland and start fishing.

He exited the Jumper and made his way down to the closest transporter. Inside the transporter, in a flash he was walking out onto the Mess Hall level, enjoying the smells of coffee, lunch, and the fresh sea air allowed in through the open doors and windows. He and Rodney had the best weather for their trip today. It was warm, with a slight breeze, and only light clouds across the sky. Perfect.

As he entered the Mess Hall he was surprised to see Rodney already at the buffet table gathering up their lunch ready to go.

"Would you look at that!" Carson tapped his friend on his back, "Great minds think alike. I thought I'd pick us up some snacks as well."

Rodney turned nervously towards him. "Um, yes about that."

Carson's heart dropped. "Rodney."

"Look, here's the thing," Rodney began in earnest. "You know I would love to go with you."

Carson frowned, disappointed. "No, I don't."

He should have known Rodney was going to find a way out of this. Normal people would love a day away from the city, by the water, but he'd forgotten how Rodney could be.

"Ah, I would, I do. I just, um...I ran into Katie Brown," Rodney began. Typical he was going to use someone else as an excuse. "And she started to lay the guilt on me, about how I never get to see her and how the one day I get off, I'm jet setting off to the coast to sport fish with my best buddy. I mean, she and I see so little of each other, I'm not sure we even count as a couple."

Other people had been wondering the same.

"Anyways," Rodney continued, "look, long story short..."

"Too late," Carson muttered.

"I told Katie I would spend the day with her," Rodney concluded with what almost appeared to be regret.

Carson kind of understood though, it was true enough that Rodney shut himself away in his lab most of the time; Katie Brown probably saw less of him than anyone else.

"Alright," he conceded.

"You know, if it was anybody else..."

"No, no. I understand," Carson replied, cutting off the long diatribe Rodney looked ready to begin.

"Yeah, next week, I'm one hundred percent there," Rodney pushed.

Carson frowned at him. "You promise?"

"Absolutely," Rodney insisted, though glancing away as he did.

"Okay," Carson agreed.

"And it's still early, so I'm sure you'll find someone else to go with you," Rodney offered, which was a good idea.

Carson could think of a few already. "Oh, you can bet on that." He wasn't going to miss his chance of a day fishing on the Mainland.

He picked up a bottle of water and a pack of sandwiches from the buffet, his mind already switching to where to find the various people he knew would be keen on joining him in Rodney's place. It was a shame John wasn't in the city, he'd probably have been up for the trip, maybe even Aidan too. Still, there were plenty of others to ask.

"Well, tell Katie I said hullo," he offered, trying not to feel too bitter or annoyed with Rodney. Rodney deserved to spend his rest day anyway he wanted, and since the man was clearly struggling to keep his relationship going with Katie Brown, Carson couldn't really blame the man for choosing his lady over fishing.

"Will do," Rodney replied with those nervous sorry eyes he sometimes displayed.

"Enjoy. I will," Carson stated with a smile as he turned and headed out of the Mess Hall, determined to still enjoy his fishing day.

Now, where would Walker be right now? Probably on John's makeshift driving range on the edge of the city...

00000

She had intended to rest after First Meal, to relax in her quarters, perhaps even gain a little sleep before the meeting and briefing ahead. However, she had not found herself able to relax enough to do so, and therefore she had spent the last hour sparring in The Generator, working out some restlessness in the name of preparing for the mission ahead.

Except it was not the mission that made her so restless.

She had not been able to stop thinking about her interaction with John earlier this morning.

She was feeling quite guilty for not having promised to include him in the mission. She had done as expected politically and not to force her new husband on the other Elite, yet John was right that he could help. He was an able warrior, and was that not one of the reasons why she had accepted him as her new husband? It was all very well her stating that her Elite work was of the highest importance, but her decision this morning was in contradiction to Elite ways. He was a more than useful resource and should be utilised.

So, was her decision perhaps based more in the need to keep him at arm's length still? Or even in an attempt to protect her new husband?

Husband.

It still felt surreal to call him that, especially considering that their interactions of late could not be the furthest from a state of union. Though perhaps in that fact it made their Political Marriage all the more realistic; as with most political couples, they were married due to situation and politics rather than the desire to be together.

No, desire was still there, and that was the problem.

Maybe she had tried to deny him a place in the mission so as to prevent the worry of him becoming a distraction again. Yet, that too was in contradiction to her recent actions. She wanted distance, yet now he was her husband!

It was no wonder that she felt so confused, and the new guilt was not helping her find any clarity or peace.

She had hoped that her sparring in The Generator would have helped distract her thoughts, maybe help her find some centre, but it had not. Now out of The Generator, she had even selected to shower in the communal washroom rather than risk walking into John in her quarters.

She could add "cowardly" to her current shameful state today.

She could only hope that a good shower in nice hot running water might soothe her. At least the water was cleaned through now and safe to use again, so she leant forward into the hot forceful rush and let the water pound over her.

The pummelling water massaged her shoulders and upper back wonderfully, easing away the physical tension from sparring, but it was not easing much else. The guilt and confusion did not wash away as easily as sweat.

Had she made an exceedingly foolish decision in accepting John as her husband?

Or was the mistake in her current behaviour?

She was still convinced that selecting Atlantis for the Political Marriage contract was the best choice, and in truth John really was perfectly suited to role of an Elite's Political Husband. His grumpy annoyance at not being included in today's mission only proved that fact further. He was courageous, honourable, and determined. What more could she ask for from a husband? Political or otherwise?

Yet, she still believed in her own determination to place some distance between them emotionally. Because of her attraction to him, because of the desire they had shared, she had made a very wrong choice and Kari had died. That guilt seemed to pound over her as much as the water did now, but there would be no way of turning that off. Kari was gone, and Teyla could not alter her mistake.

As an Elite she was more than used to making vital decisions in the field, decisions that could, and often did, cost lives. It had taken time and experience to find a place with that fact, and all of her training had prepared her for that role. Yet, her Elite training had not prepared her for how to deal with the distraction of a lover – in fact that training had instilled the strong belief that such matters were dangerously distracting for a warrior.

She had known that, but had risked a short affair with John anyway. She had not realised how much longer it would go on, how much deeper her feelings would grow.

And then how distracting they would be at a vital moment.

If she had just gone with the team to the Glisi world, rather than go back to Atlantis to be with John, then she would have been able to warn Kari and the others about the Wraith ambush that had been lying in wait.

Yet...Seekers could not be on every mission; there were too few of them. Si could have been there... These questions were hardly new, but they were growing louder in the face of John's presence on the ship. Which only proved how distracting the man could be, and she had gone and become his wife!

Perhaps the problem was her.

She closed her eyes tightly at the thought, turning her face up into the water, willing away the threat of tears.

Elite did not cry.

Yet, the confusion was almost overwhelming. How was she to know what to do?

How could she find peace with the hurt and betrayal she had seen in John's face this morning? Their affair was over, but even on the matter of facing the Wraith she was denying him what he wanted.

She had not behaved as an Elite should – she had behaved as a politician would have. She had put his political position upmost, had not wanted to upset her fellow Elite, and had perhaps put her own worries about him first. John's wishes had been ignored. She had at least tried to offer him a place at the vital briefing with the Fleet commanders and then a place up in Central Station to watch the battle.

It was something at least.

She still felt like she had betrayed him though, and that broke something already worn inside her and it made her start to question who she had become.

She used to have faith in her decisions and in her focus. Why was she now doubting herself and her skills so much?

Apparently no answers were going to arrive in the shower though, so she turned off the water and ran her hands over her hair, squeezing out the excess water and letting out a long tired sigh.

She could only hope one day things would start to become easier with John.

That maybe clarity would come with time.

She splashed through the remaining pool of draining water and headed through the empty tiled space towards the hot air vents. She triggered them alive, the blast of hot air satisfying. She turned slowly in it, her body drying and her hair flowing out behind her. The noise actually seemed to help drown away her own turning thoughts at least, and, her body dry, she leant forward to focus the air on her hair alone. The strands danced around her and the heat eased into her further.

Completely dry, she triggered the air off and brushed her hair back off her shoulders. As she did, she heard a polite clearing of a male throat out in the adjoining changing area. Someone was waiting for her to finish. It would likely be a fellow Elite, or maybe Tyoosi, since the rest of the crew rarely used this washroom, and besides they were all practising drills in the run up to the mission soon to begin.

She pulled a long towel out from a cupboard by the dryer, wrapped the warm material around herself and then padded out of the enclosed wash area. She stepped into the cooler air of the changing room to find that it was Oneakka who was waiting for her. He was sat on a bench, strategically positioned so that his back was turned towards where she had left her clothes.

She did not feel self conscious around Oneakka, but she was grateful for his respect of her privacy, as well as it being a clear signal that he had something he wished to discuss away from the others.

"Oneakka," she greeted him as she headed towards her clothes.

"Sheppard wants in on the mission," he stated in response, cutting immediately to the point of his visit.

She faltered in her steps only briefly, more from hearing John's name than at any surprise at the announcement. In truth she felt a rush of tremendous relief.

She reached her clothes and unwrapped the towel from around her. She had not supported John being a part of the mission, so he had found a way without her. It did not surprise her, and made her more than a little bit proud of his stubborn determination to be involved. Most would seek to avoid something so dangerous as the mission ahead, and he did not even know what the mission involved.

"He is a skilled pilot," she agreed towards Oneakka's turned back.

"And if he's killed?" Oneakka asked, so wonderfully direct as always. She smiled towards his wide shoulders as she pulled on her underwear. He had turned his head just enough that one ear was slightly turned towards her.

"He is a warrior," she responded firmly as she pulled on her tight brown trousers. "He faces similar threats as us all the time. He is a useful and willing resource," she summarised as she pulled on her top.

"I thought we were supposed to think more politically now," Oneakka asked.

"Why?" She asked, pulling on her top, amused that he was the one asking such a question and she was now denying the politics of the situation.

Oneakka turned his head enough that one blue eye came into view. "Isn't that why you married him? The political links and gains?"

There was just the tiniest touch of something in his tone that seemed to question her reasoning, and she felt her back rise a little. "I married him so that we would join forces with Atlantis to fight against the Wraith," she stated quickly, and little too much of her annoyance making it into her voice for her liking. "Atlantis understands the risks in him being out here," she added, aware of her hypocrisy considering her arguments to John this morning. The contradictions continued.

"Nalla and I think he would be best placed on one of the transport craft," Oneakka responded, apparently having accepted her point. "As a secondary pilot. He says he has experience in flying in high winds."

She nodded her agreement, but was fully aware of Oneakka's real point.

She turned her back to sit down on the bench and began pulling on her boots.

Life appeared to be throwing every punch it could at the moment.

If John was going to help pilot one of the two transport crafts in the mission, and she would be on one of them, she was going to have to decide whether to be on the same team as John.

"It would be the best place to utilise his skills," she replied to Oneakka as she closed up one boot and tugged on the other one.

Should she be near John to ensure his safety, or hope the other team would watch over him appropriately? She had worked with him on several missions now, so she knew he could look after himself, could even watch her back.

The question was perhaps whether he would be a greater distraction in her team, or would the distraction be in not knowing where he was if he were in the other team?

Should she remove herself from the teams? No, her place was there, especially as a Seeker. She would not make that same mistake again!

She realised Oneakka had not said anything for awhile. Her boots on and secure, she slid her knife into its sheath within her right boot and stood up. She turned back round towards him, only to find that Oneakka wasn't watching her as she had expected. Instead, he appeared to be inspecting the far wall as if deep in thought.

"If you're sure," he said finally.

She frowned at her friend's back. "Are you concerned his presence will make me lose my focus?" She asked directly, her tone blunt and annoyed as she voiced out loud the question that plagued her so greatly.

A blue eye came back into view, dark tattoos surrounding the orbit. "You don't want him here," Oneakka stated rather than asked.

It wasn't the answer she had expected, but it was truthful and insightful nonetheless. "That will not alter my focus on the mission," she promised him, and the universe, with a determination that she did not quite have as much faith in as she wished.

The blue eye studied her. "I never said it would," he responded.

He trusted her, believed in her. She should not have doubted him in that, but in truth it was herself that she doubted, despite her promise.

She could not let what happened to Kari happen again. Could not fail those she had sworn to protect.

"Good," she stated out loud to Oneakka as she reached for her weapons, sliding them home into her holster.

"If you are so concerned about my feelings at John being on the ship," she noted to Oneakka, "I'm surprised you were so insistent about him sharing quarters with me." She still felt a little annoyed with him for having taken John's side over the matter of where John slept.

"You're either married or you're not," he stated more seriously than she had expected. "You keep to your contract or you don't, don't hover around in between."

She was slightly taken back by his answer and reasoning, but then this was Oneakka. He was direct in his actions and in his delivery of what he thought. Yet...she saw something far too uncomfortably close to sympathy in his watching gaze.

"Sharing quarters does not alter things," she suggested.

"I believe in facing things," he argued back.

She considered him, surprised anew at his pushing on this subject. "Such as the situation with Seeal?" She asked directly, wanting to see what his reaction would be. If he could be direct and insightful, then so could she.

Nothing obvious changed in his expression, but she sensed something closing away in his eyes. "She'll provide the information we need, get her clean record, and leave. That _is_ the situation," he stated.

She frowned at him. "It doesn't have to be. She has a lot to offer us," she suggested.

He looked away and moved to stand up. "She needs to fly free," he answered as he turned towards the exit. "And Sheppard needs a place here."

"That does not need to include a place in my quarters," she responded sadly as she reached down for her folded jacket.

"Isn't that where husbands usually live?" Oneakka asked, and this time there was obvious humour in his voice.

She looked back up at him with a bemused frown.

"Be in your marriage or out of it, Teyla," he stated. "Not in between and with indecision. That is not the Elite way."

It was such a typical, honest, reductionist way Oneakka saw the universe, but it was simple and it was true.

The point rolled around Teyla like a wave in the ocean, pouring obvious truth against her previous confusion.

"Neither is the distraction of love part of the Elite way," she voiced her fear to him, grateful beyond words to have this moment, to share so openly with him.

He glanced away in thought, his large strong presence across the room feeling like a rock in the settling waves.

His gaze returned to her and he shrugged vaguely. "The way I see it, you're already in it. Why pretend to be anything in between?"

She stared at him and his plain truth.

"I'll see you up in Central Station," he added with what looked like a slightly smug look as he turned away.

She didn't mind though as she nodded towards his retreating back as he left.

Alone again, she frowned down at the jacket in her hand.

He was right of course – she was already distracted, and though she had been trying to draw herself out of that state, it was not going to change was it. She loved John and he was a distraction, and she should accept that truth. Not deny it.

The question was then how to adapt to this new state. If she accepted that John was what he was in her life, that she felt what she did, and that she would forever fear for his safety, then she needed to learn to adapt.

That clarity felt like a sudden calm still centre to a storm that she had been caught up in for too long. She had struggled to find her way to that sense of clarity, but instead it had simply arrived and settled into her being.

She had been fighting against the facts too conflicting to ever balance out. The answer was not to fight, to accept and adapt.

John was her husband now. They would be around each other more than ever before, so she was going to have to find a way to deal with that. Maybe there was no ideal solution, no wall to build around her. She simply needed to change, to find a new path. That was what Elite did – they met each new challenge anew and with their whole being.

She was an Elite in love with her husband...

Suddenly she was not entirely sure why that had been such a bad thing.

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TBC


	40. Preparations

**Note:** Thank you for all the reviews for the last three chapters! And I have to say, I've never known so much begging for more this week, and I'm sorry I couldn't post more until now. However, here they are, two new chapters. I hope they don't disappoint.

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**Chapter 40 - Preparations**

It was a beautiful day across the ocean. The sun was shining, the light sparkling brightly across the water out beyond Atlantis' version of a driving range. A soft cool breeze danced across Carson's face as he stepped out onto the small slice of space.

Sergeant Llewellyn and Dr Watson were stood on the two green patches of fake grass, both focused down on the tiny white balls that were the entire focus of the game of golf. Carson had never had any interest in the game himself.

"Hullo, Sergeant, Doctor," Carson greeted them. "I thought Walker was going to be out here today."

Sergeant Llewellyn smiled up from his club as Watson delicately twisted his driver into a waiting golf ball. "Walker's off trying to seduce that pretty doctor he's had his eye on."

Carson snapped his attention away from the rather weak arch of Watson's shot to glare at Llewellyn. "Which one of my doctors?" He asked worriedly.

"The new redhead with the pretty smile," Llewellyn smiled as he swung and sent his golf ball sailing up and out across the water in a far more powerful long smooth arc than Watson's shot.

"Nice," Dr Watson smiled at the shot before turning round towards Carson, his body held oddly. "Hi, Doc, I meant to come see you earlier," he began and Carson knew what was coming, plus it was obvious to his trained eye that Watson wasn't entirely comfortable. But, if he could hit a golf ball then he wasn't about to drop dead.

"I've been having this weird pain since this morning-" Watson began.

"Hang on, sorry," Carson interrupted him quickly, "let me stop you right there." This was always a problem when he was off duty. "This is the first day I've had off in over a month. Dr Cole is in the Infirmary," he assured Dr Watson, "and will be more than happy to help you out."

"Okay, fair enough," Dr Watson smiled back, thankfully. He patted Carson's shoulder and moved away, hopefully heading off towards the Infirmary. But, that wasn't Carson's concern, he had to make sure not to get caught up. There were plenty of medical personnel on duty today who could help. Today was his fishing day. He turned to Llewellyn.

"Thought you were off fishing with the mad Dr McKay," Llewellyn asked as he practiced another swing.

"He pulled out at the last minute," Carson admitted. "Don't suppose you'd be interested in going in his place?"

"Sorry, Carson, I'm all about the golf today," Llewellyn replied in his soft welsh accent before he swung his body round and sent another ball flying out over the water. "As it is I've already got both this slot that was Sheppard's and Walker's next slot on top of my own, so I'm just going to stay here."

Carson was disappointed, but not all that surprised. "Just don't go getting jealous when I return with a record-breaking space trout," he joked as he measured out how large said alien trout could be.

Llewellyn laughed. "Just because you don't like golf, which is just wrong when you're a Scotsman."

"Hey, don't judge someone by where they're from, because otherwise I'd think you might have an unnatural interest in sheep," he joked.

Llewellyn winced as he used his driver to guide another golf ball into place on the fake green lawn. "Don't go telling the Yanks about those jokes; I'll never hear the end of it. Besides they're all lies."

"Sure, sure," Carson teased, but frowned. "Okay, so I don't suppose Walker is going to be interested in going either."

"Oh no," Llewellyn grinned. "He's got the entire day set aside to win the fair heart of a lady. His words not mine." Another powerful swing and another golf ball flew off to decorate the bottom of the massive alien ocean.

Sighing, Carson turned away. "Okay, thanks anyway, Sergeant. See you later when you'll be begging me to hold the space trout."

"In your dreams," Llewellyn called back as the driver smashed into another poor little ball.

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The new data spiralled across the screens, the lower lighting of Central Station allowing the details of the collated data display to shine out clearly for all the watching Elite.

Oneakka leant an elbow on the edge of the display screen and set his chin in his hand as he contemplated the information.

"The data is secure and arriving in the allotted brief bursts," Si reported. "This is as good a resolution as we will get until we reach Giant itself."

Oneakka contemplated the latest images of the massive planet known as The Giant. It was the first sight the Elite had had of it for almost a year, and the new probe was transmitting its data as planned. However, the data it had sent was more problematic than they had predicted.

"We knew this could be a problem," Si uttered.

"We did not know the weather patterns had become so much less predictable on Giant," Teyla replied softly, her dark eyes playing over the displays across from Oneakka.

"Skilled pilots will be even more vital," Oneakka noted, glancing across to her.

She lifted her dark eyes from the displays and sent him a soft small smile. The mission almost upon them, she appeared more relaxed than she had in days. He guessed she wasn't too worked up about Sheppard joining the mission after all. Regardless as to what she felt, Sheppard was going to be very useful, and it would look good to the rest of the Alliance if Atlantis helped out in this vital mission.

Oneakka smiled at his own strangely political thoughts as he returned his attention to the new data.

"We didn't expect there to be so many Wraith on Giant," Seifer muttered the obvious. "We'd expected them to have only a minimal presence after we abandoned Giant. Maybe just a small base on the planet's surface."

"There are bases," Oneakka pointed out. "Two of them."

Seifer's gaze met his. "Yes, I see them, but we didn't expect there to be over two hundred Wraith lifesigns in them." That much was true. It wouldn't change the mission itself though – the Elite were returning to Giant and no amount of Wraith on the planet would stop them.

"The Wraith can withstand the thin oxygen atmosphere far easier than us," Halling reminded Seifer. "And Giant is so strategically important in relation to the Nest System that we knew they would hold it."

"But two hundred lifesigns," Seifer complained again, as if doing so would improve the situation. "Why are there so many there? Why are they not in hibernation? There is nothing useful at all on Giant; the planet is barren and harsh."

"There may be a Queen there," Nalla suggested thoughtfully. "It could be a breeding base."

"Wraith shit," Oneakka muttered at the thought. It was all very well sneaking onto Giant, but if there was a Queen then they might have to alter the plan. Engaging the Wraith wasn't the priority.

"It is then especially vital that Si and I are on separate transport craft," Teyla put in.

Oneakka reached forward and tapped through some of the displayed data, looking at the probe's latest scans of the target area of Giant's surface. The probe was advanced, but even it couldn't capture clear data through the gaseous muck over and around Giant. That the probe had sent back any images at all was a testament to Alliance and Elite engineering and technology, and Oneakka would mention as much to Edfu and Maja at the Training Facility. Of course the actual technological advancements had been made on The Mad Moon, and the probe spying on Giant wasn't even the most important element of this mission that they had provided.

The thought of Edfu played on Oneakka's mind as he looked through the data. The Security Lead had contacted Oneakka again this morning from the Training Facility, eager to add his net pet project among the rest of the important details for the mission.

After the security breach by Karthig, it had become clear that the Elite needed more secure and advanced communications and computer defences, despite being the most advanced in the Alliance. It had been Seeal's knowing experienced eye that had picked up what no one else had thought to look for in the links on and off the Sythus, thereby revealing to them serious holes in their security and protocols.

After The Traitor, Oneakka would have thought they would have learnt to spot such things, but criminals always seemed to be one step ahead of late. Edfu wanted to change that, and along with his colleague Maja at the Training Facility, a new secret project was being put into motion. Edfu and Maja were recruiting the best minds available in the Alliance, and Edfu wanted Seeal involved.

Oneakka could understand why, after all Seeal had been the one to find the problem and help patch it up, and she'd supplied some countermeasures that had gotten Edfu just a little too excited. However, Oneakka was certain Edfu's interest in Seeal's "skills" wasn't just related to her coding ability and criminally insightful mind.

But, Edfu had a point. Earlier Oneakka had had a look at the coding changes she had made to the re-sequencer programme he had hoped to use to hack into the new Aria retinal scanners. He wasn't at all skilled at coding, he was more at home with the engineering side of things, but he knew enough to appreciate how advanced her skills were. "Gifted" had been Edfu's description of her other work, and she wielded that skill rather like she used her body in fighting – like it was easy, a natural part of her, and done with barely any thought or appreciation.

And that was the problem. She had her own way of thinking, and her own unique form of logic that had led her to make some bad decisions in the past. He truly believed that in her heart she was an honourable woman - damaged and alone in the universe, but honourable in her own way. The problem was that she acted to that unique sense of honour without thinking about rules and regulations – she had seen there was an issue on Sythus with Karthig, so she had made her point by hacking into the computer. It had been so typical of her - behaving without awareness or care for boundaries. If she was going to live in the Alliance then she was going to have to learn to behave herself.

It was not lost on him that he saw something of himself in her overly direct approach to things. If she saw a solution to a problem, then she acted in the most direct way to achieve it. But, she had to learn to think of others and obey the rules, to respect social boundaries. He was trying to make the point clear to her, and she was clearly receiving the message, but he wasn't entirely convinced if she really would, in the heat of a crisis, do the 'right' thing. If it was in her best interests, would she betray the Elite?

His instincts told him she wouldn't, but he was aware that his reactions weren't overly lucid with regard to Seeal. She had a way of pushing his buttons, as much as he enjoyed her directness and intelligence. He understood what it felt like to not feel connected to anything, to lose everything, and he had to hope that she wasn't going to fall back on old ways.

If she was allowed to go work with Edfu, could she end up in a situation where she had to choose between her own safety and that of Elite/Alliance security? He wasn't convinced that her lifetime of self protection wouldn't kick in. She was to be trusted now, but how far could that trust be pushed?

The others on the ship seemed quite convinced that she had a lot to offer – Teyla seemed certain and Edfu had enough support at the Training Facility to recruit her.

Except, the Elite had put Oneakka in charge of Seeal in regards to security, and he wasn't convinced yet. It would be better for her to get her clean record and just get away from the dangers and temptations of a military and security focused life – to just go live her life on a safe Alliance world where she could finally be respected and behave herself.

She could have the safe home that she had been long denied and clearly wanted.

Last night, lying in his bed, her breathing loud to his ears across his quarters, he had, not for the first time, contemplated how he might have lived such a life if he had not joined the Elite. Of course, that was assuming that he wouldn't have just been killed by the Wraith along with the rest of his people.

But, if that had not happened, or if he had chosen to leave and live elsewhere...how might he had turned out? He had imagined that perhaps he might have a wife, maybe some children, and have a creative career, perhaps as a carpenter or a blacksmith. Or perhaps he could have become an Alliance engineer and helped create the technology the Elite were using.

Such as the advanced and powerful probe currently sneaking looks at Giant.

He frowned at the data he had called up on several screens. "These structures extend out from the Wraith bases," he noted indicating the long tendril like structures on the scans. "This one looks like it runs close to the inlet."

"The Wraith need water as do humans," Nalla noted. "Perhaps they are pumping water to the local base from the inlet. Fluids are especially needed if a Queen is breeding there."

"If they have explored the inlet then they may have found the Mother Device," Teyla worried.

"They shouldn't have," Seifer protested without any real data to back up his theory. "The device isn't giving out any detectable readings, and they've never shown any interest before in poking around abandoned structures."

Oneakka had to agree with that thinking at least. "The Mother Device is well hidden," he considered. "They probably haven't found it, but if they have, then it could be a trap."

"Our trap will become theirs," Si uttered philosophically, but unhelpfully.

"We will have to approach the target area from around this ridge," Nalla put in more practically. "That will place all of this area between us and the closest point of their structures."

"If most of the lifesigns remain within the main local base," Teyla added, "then we can still approach the inlet undetected. Giant's unstable weather will only help us in that regard."

Oneakka nodded at her thinking, his eyes straying to the small security panel displayed on the closest screen. He found his attention always returning to those alert panels of late. He had been feeling somewhat on edge that it would flag up that something else unexpected had happened and that Seeal would yet again be at the centre of the mess.

If she wasn't hacking into the computer or upsetting Tyoosi, then she was ending up in the centre of a fight. She could have drowned in that Hot Water Regulation Chamber last night. Trouble seemed to surround the woman, even if it wasn't of her own making, which made him worry even more about the prospect of her assisting Edfu in his new pet project. She might not intend to do anything wrong, but she was just too unpredictable, too mouthy, too ready to prove her point regardless of the situation. And she drew too much of his focus.

Nalla had picked up on that, drawing his attention to the fact that he had become a little obsessed with watching over Seeal of late.

Well, the others shouldn't have put him in charge of being her watchdog!

Yet, if he'd left Tyoosi to look after Seeal, she'd probably still be sleeping on the floor somewhere, not appearing to actually care that she was uncomfortable. She couldn't even be trusted to make the right decision to look after herself!

She'd actually started fighting against the idea of sleeping in a comfortable bed last night, of sharing space with him. He knew damn well that she trusted him with her safety and her blatant lingering hopeful looks towards the proper comfortable bed had been obvious. Still she'd argued about staying in his quarters, resisting comfort and the obvious solution to her sleeping arrangements. But, she had agreed in the end, and had clearly slept well. He'd taken only one look at her through one of the "sheer" panels in the dividing curtain this morning, just to ensure she had used the bed, and had seen that she had burrowed down under the covers like an animal seeking warmth and security. She'd also looked well rested when she'd gotten up, despite her cranky attitude.

He frowned at the fact that his thoughts had strayed back to Seeal again, his eyes on the security panel once more. Nalla's subtle point had been true enough – he was obsessing. He was well aware that he had a tendency to become obsessed about things – new tech, missions, helping his colleagues with the obvious answers to their issues, and obsessively learning about subjects he didn't understand. It was a somewhat ravenous part of himself that he had fed, but he was aware that it could, sometimes, occasionally, be a failing of his. Except most of the time it was useful - the others had thought his obsession about hunting down The Traitor's involvements had been unhealthy, but it had yielded spectacular results.

"The Fleet Commanders have reported in," Halling announced returning back from the front of Central Station. "Everyone who is able to attend is in place. The mission briefing is scheduled for one hour's time on the Ballista."

"How long until we reach them?" Teyla asked.

"Just over an hour," Si reported from a screen display.

"We will be late," Teyla smiled faintly. "The Satedans will not be happy."

"Let them wait," Oneakka stated as he forced his focus onto the weather reports from Giant. The computer was displaying its best predictions of the weather over the target area in the next few hours. The mission would begin as soon as the briefing with the Fleet Commanders was complete. Everything was ready, the Fleet just needed to understand their role and the way forward.

Soon everyone would know the mission ahead and understand how vital it was going to be...and risky.

"We should finalise the last drills, check all stations, and prepare," Si concluded beside Oneakka.

Oneakka's gaze slid back to the security panel. Nothing newly worrying had been reported.

He should probably go check on Seeal and Madesh before the mission began anyway. He needed to make sure that they knew to stay out of the way, and that Seeal was reminded not to get anything into her head about being "useful" and going around procedures to do it.

He frowned at the weather report as it shifted with the arrival of the latest data burst from the probe. If these predictions were correct, it really was going to very breezy in and around the target zone on Giant. He didn't like the idea of what the teams would be facing.

"You and Halling are needed here on the Sythus," Teyla's voice arrived at his side, the others having disbanded.

He glanced round at her. "I didn't say otherwise," the comment echoing what he had said to her not so long ago.

She smiled back. She did appear far calmer than she had in the changing room, than she had in a long time. It seemed that maybe she had listened to the obvious at last.

"If both the teams do not return," she reminded him anyway, "then you and Halling will be onboard to ensure the Fleet can do what it can. The Sythus is needed on the frontline of this battle."

He nodded, but truthfully didn't really like that he was going to be stood up here in Central Station on the Sythus, rather than down on Giant ensuring the most important part of the mission was completed. He had faith in his fellow Elite, he just preferred to be part of the action, being with them.

"You may also be required if the Fleet Commanders do not all agree with the premise of our plan," she added with a frown towards the many displays.

"They will," Oneakka believed firmly, "once they know the full story and what we have planned for the Nest System."

Teyla nodded. "This could change so much."

He nodded too, his eyes straying to the security panel again.

He _was_ getting obsessive.

00000

The chess club was pretty active in Atlantis, but then considering the high proportion of scientists among the population, Carson guessed it wasn't all that much of a surprise. What had been a surprise was how seriously some took the game.

Walking through the room now, Carson cast his eye over the lines of chessboards and the participants focused intently over them. His target though was sat near the end of the line of tables. As Carson approached he could see pretty quickly that Radek's reputation at the game was as justified as ever.

"Son of a bitch!" Radek's competitor exclaimed across the board. "Stop that!"

"Stop what?" Radek asked. "Winning?"

"You haven't won yet," the man protested, whose name Carson couldn't quite place.

Radek seemed nonplussed by the complaints though, and, spotting Carson nearing the table, he stood up with a welcoming relaxed smile.

"Carson! You've come to join the Chess Club."

"Uh, not quite," Carson replied. He was as uninterested in chess as he was in golf, though he'd probably choose chess over golf. However, he wasn't here about either, but he was already getting the distinct impression that he wasn't going to find a new fishing partner in here.

"You've come to watch?" Radek guessed rather optimistically.

"Well, uh, no. Actually, Radek, I'm looking for someone to come fishing with me. Rodney bailed at the last minute," Carson explained.

"Surprise, surprise," Radek muttered.

"I know," Carson agreed. "Any interest?" He asked hopefully.

"I would, but we're playing for trades today, you know," Radek replied, which explained the intense focus around the room. "And no one can really beat me so... I've already won a desk fan, Doctor Mallozzi's animé DVD collection, and I got a coupon for a free Swedish massage from Dr Ambrose."

"Ouch," Carson smiled, aware that Radek wasn't going to enjoy that massage as much as he expected. Dr Ambrose was good with deep tissue work, and there wasn't all that much depth to Radek's muscle mass.

Radek nodded and clicked his tongue, unaware of the pain ahead of him. Carson held in his smile.

"Perhaps we can go fishing next week?" Radek suggested.

It was starting to look like that might be the case. Everyone so far was busy, or off world like John and Aidan. Rodney had promised to go fishing next week instead, so perhaps he should just put it off. Still, he had the Jumper for the day and he'd been really looking forward to it...

There might still be one or two people to try, and it would be a shame to waste the time and weather staying in the city.

"Okay, alright," Carson smiled at Radek. "Well, best of luck to you," he offered as he turned away.

"I don't need luck," he heard Radek reply. "Checkmate."

"Son of a bitch!" Radek's competitor exclaimed again, which meant that Radek had won himself something else interesting.

A few enquiries later and Carson had tracked down Major Lorne, who he knew had an interest in fishing and days away from the city.

The view was spectacular out here and the man had certainly found a particularly impressive spot looking up at the towering spires of the central part of the city. Lorne's reason for picking the spot became immediately apparent as Carson approached. The easel was set up before the Major and all his focus was trained on the work of art he was creating.

"You paint," Carson commented as he approached.

"Hey, Doc," Lorne replied with barely a glance away from his work. "Yeah, I paint."

"And you're good too," Carson complimented.

"My mom was an art teacher. It's what we did on weekends. Stopped for awhile during basic training and first couple of years on duty," he said as he added paint carefully and precisely to the canvas. "But, I'm picking it up again. Hard not to with views like that."

Carson looked out at the view of the beautiful Ancient city with him. "Aye," he agreed. "I don't suppose there's any chance you'd liked to come fishing with me on the mainland is there?" Carson tried, but already guessed what the answer was going to be. He was not having much luck so far.

"If you'd gotten to me earlier maybe," Lorne replied, barely pausing in his work, so consumed and happy as he obviously was revisiting his family pastime. "But, I kinda wanna finish this up."

Carson looked at the beautiful painting. "It looks done to me," he pointed out.

"That is why I am the painter," Lorne smiled and finally properly looked up and round from his work, "and you are the doctor."

"Very good point," Carson conceded. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Major."

"You can count on it," Lorne replied, happily returning to his work.

Carson walked away feeling more than a touch of disappointment. He was fast running out of people to ask. At this rate he was definitely going to have to put it off until next week.

Still, there were a few other possibilities.

00000

The lab was close enough to engineering for the movement of personnel in the repeated emergency drills to carry down the corridors. Stood in the open doorway to the lab, Seeal leant against the doorframe and frowned at the controlled thunder of military boots fading away.

"That makes the fifth run through," she commented to Madesh in the lab behind her.

"Yes, but that does not change the fact that you're not helping me with the databases," Madesh replied.

She looked back round at the thick shouldered man sat across from her vacated seat. Everyone else was practicing their drills, preparing for the fast approaching battle.

"I could be helping somewhere," she commented to Madesh.

"Where?" Madesh asked, glancing up from the screens and the tablet he was holding. "No one's going to let you work in engineering or on a tactical or security station. We're to continue our work on the databases, or on anything else Honoured Elite Oneakka or the others ask us to do."

Seeal sighed and moved back towards the workstation, leaning against the back of her chair without sitting down in it. "Don't you get bored with the whole 'trying to be a perfect solider' routine?"

He looked up at her with a smile. "Do you get bored of the whole 'trying to be detached' routine?" He countered.

They had fallen into this open, honest ribbing of each other these last two days. He was an interesting man in that he didn't really take anything as an insult – and Seeal had tried. He was pretty cool under fire, with the only sore spot being when he felt someone, usually her, wasn't being respectful enough of the Elite.

"I am just pointing out an interesting fact," she replied.

"About me or about the emergency drills?" Madesh asked as he returned his attention to tapping in commands into a search screen.

"Both," she mused as she pushed away from the chair and headed back to the doorway. If trying to get a reaction out of Madesh was her only source of entertainment then she really was bored.

"I mean no one's even keeping watch over me," she muttered. "I could get up to anything."

She waited to see if he would rise to that one. He said nothing and kept tapping away on a tablet.

"It's kind of insulting really," she pondered as she settled her shoulder back against the doorframe.

The sound of a shouted order echoed down the corridor and the thumping of military boots restarted somewhere in the distance.

"Drill number six," she sighed.

"If you're bored," Madesh commented, "why don't you help me with our work?"

"What more is there to get out of it?" She asked over her shoulder.

Madesh frowned at her. "You know there's enough in these two databases to keep a Division officer working for life."

"Do I look like a Division rat to you?" She asked.

Madesh's gaze looked over her briefly. "No, far too relaxed," he smiled.

She smiled at his joke as the boots thumped back the other way down the corridor, faster this time, and she could just about make out Tyoosi' voice in the distance.

"You'd think they would already be perfect if they run these drills all the time," she considered looking down the boring empty corridor outside the lab.

"Practise makes perfect," Madesh replied. "Repetition breeds instinct."

"Is that some Elite rallying slogan?" She asked looking back round.

"Honoured Elite Oneakka says it."

"You mean he probably shouted it at you while you were on your two hundredth press up?" She asked.

Madesh pulled a somewhat pained smile as he worked, his eyes directed downwards. "Close enough," he admitted.

"Repetition breeds instinct," she mulled.

A detailed memory of this morning played across her mind's eye. Oneakka was clearly good at repetitive workouts to gain such a sculpted muscular torso. She wondered if Madesh had been into Oneakka's quarters, had seen all the books, scrolls and pieces of Ugun artwork.

She wondered what state the room would be in if the ship's gravity was challenged during a space battle. Maybe, he secured everything away before a big battle. She had certainly made sure her things were put away in her single bag tucked under her bed in his quarters. All she had on the ship was in that bag, and she supposed all Oneakka had was in his room. Maybe all that was left of his people.

She sighed at the rather depressing thought, her mind's eye returning to the single tattoo that sat over Oneakka's heart. If Ugun was included in the computer's translation lists, maybe she could work out what it said. If she could remember the tattoo well enough – maybe see it again even.

Maybe Madesh knew, since guys often went shirtless when they trained didn't they?

She heard Tyoosi shouting orders in the distance again.

She wished she had Oneakka's retinal scanner tech to play with, then at least she would have something interesting to focus on rather than being excluded from the interestingly mysterious big battle that was about to start. The Elite were probably about to make history and she'd be all locked away bored in a side room.

"Why does Sheppard get to play and we don't?" She asked. "And Ford's been given a place to watch the action up in Central Station." Nevaeh had reported that last point in particular when she had visited her and Madesh earlier. The woman had meant it as proof of the younger Earth man's importance, but Seeal suspected he was simply there because he represented Atlantis with Sheppard off the ship.

"You could ask to watch it up there too," Madesh suggested.

"They won't let me up there," she disregarded the idea instantly, her attention focused down the corridor, listening out for drill number seven. How many times could you drill engineers? Surely they had actual work to do in Engineering.

"Major Sheppard has status, I suppose," Madesh considered out loud. "He apparently managed to land a critically damaged Elite ship last year. Saved everyone aboard."

"We've all 'saved everybody aboard'," she uttered a little bitterly.

"He's not an ex-criminal," Madesh replied, having overheard.

"Details," she dismissed and sighed again. "So what's going to happen when we hit the battle? Are we really supposed to just stay in here and work quietly even if the ship is making emergency manoeuvres?"

"Yes," Madesh answered simply. "Though technically I could be with Honoured Elite Oneakka and Halling up in the Central Station if they need me."

"Why those two?" She asked looking over her shoulder at that interesting nugget of information.

"They will be the only Elite on the ship during the mission."

"How do you know that?" She asked. She could hear the boots again down the corridor.

Madesh looked up with a flash of concern. "I know a few details about the mission. I was around during some of the planning before the Sythus set out."

"What's the mission?" She demanded, eager for some intell.

Madesh paused. "I can't say, I'm sorry. I have to have permission."

Great, she would be stuck with someone who kept to every random promise he made. She was already in this fight, so why not know more about it?

She became aware of new boots in the distance down the corridor. Maybe it was Tyoosi or some security member finally going to check on her. Or were they on their way to dismiss her away to somewhere even more boring during the battle?

"I'm going into this battle with the rest of you," she complained to Madesh, "and I don't get to hear what it's about?"

"No," Oneakka replied as he rounded the corridor's far corner.

She looked round towards him. He was decked out in full weaponry, just as he had appeared the last time she had seen him go to war against the Wraith on her home planet.

"Why not?" She asked, leaning more casually against the doorframe again as he approached.

"Because you are not taking part," Oneakka replied as he arrived at the doorway and stopped. "You will stay in here and keep out of trouble."

She looked up the tiny distance between them and smiled innocently. "By which you mean don't hack into the computers, don't try to help out in any way, and don't break into any restricted rooms on Aria?"

He narrowed his blue eyes down at her. "And don't kill anyone," he added unnecessarily.

"What if Wraith get onboard?" She asked.

"They won't," he replied instantly.

"But if they do, can I kill them?" She pushed.

"Yes," he replied.

"Good to know that I'm allowed to do something for a change," she smiled sarcastically up at him. "Is it alright that I continue to breathe, is that okay?"

The blue of his eyes seemed to change as he shifted his stance slightly. "As long as you breathe _quietly_," he responded.

She was aware that she was feeling better, the restless boredom gone in an instant. She knew it was stupid to engage him in these verbal battles, but...she liked it. And the more these little sparring matches happened, the more she was becoming convinced that he enjoyed them too.

"Are you sure my apparent snoring last night wasn't just my breathing being too loud for you?" She asked.

His reaction was subtle, but a victory nonetheless. His eyes moved a tiny fraction towards Madesh, giving away the fact that he didn't like how Madesh could interpret that comment. The blues returned to her immediately, but it was too late, he had given away that he was embarrassed at what Madesh might think. She smiled victoriously at his annoyed frown. She'd won that round and found out that the man could actually be self-conscious. It was a serious victory for her and he knew it.

"You always breathe too loudly," he stated quickly, trying to cover the moment. "Usually because you _never_ _stop_ talking."

"I'll have you know that I was known to be the silent type on Dreamstation," she told him, still pleased at having discovered his embarrassed tell.

"Maybe you should revisit those days," Oneakka suggested.

"And make you happy?" She asked. "I don't think so," she chuckled with a teasing grin, really enjoying herself now.

"At least if Wraith do get onto the ship you'll draw all their fire by attempting to talk them to death."

"Better than trying to glare them to death," she countered, a little weakly, but it still held.

"I don't glare at Wraith, I kill them," Oneakka stated as if she really thought he would try simply glaring at a Wraith. "If they get on the Sythus, you kill them," he added as if she needed that clarifying.

"I think I can work that out for myself," she replied. "Still, I'm better use to the ship doing something."

"There's nothing for you to do, but work on the Toshka database and the Dreamstation drive."

"There's plenty I could do," she argued. "I'm another pair of eyes on the sensors or another pair of hands in Engineering."

Oneakka leant forward slightly, invading her personal space just a little bit as he had done earlier this morning. "You stay in here and work."

She held his gaze, level and unflinchingly, but his physical presence felt slightly different now that she knew what he looked like under that moulded body armour.

A sudden random thought came to mind as she held her ground. Was he perhaps hammering home his point for her to stay in the lab not to keep her away from anything secure, but in order to keep her out of harm's way?

No, that couldn't be right.

"Are you concerned about _my_ welfare?" She asked him. "Or the ship's?"

"The ship's," he replied immediately, very quickly in fact. "The computer's safety, the crew's safety," he continued glancing away as if in thought. "_Everybody's_ safety from you," he concluded.

"Even the Wraith's?" She asked sarcastically, trying not to feel hurt.

He pursed his lips slightly as it thinking closely on the point. "Yes."

She pulled a face that him, out of things to say.

He looked past her to Madesh.

Fine, he'd won that round.

She wished she didn't feel like she'd been insulted. He could at least pretend that he was a little bit worried about her safety.

"Keep working," Oneakka told Madesh. "Report anything you find until the battle, otherwise record everything. Halling and I will be in Central Station for the most part."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Madesh replied.

Oneakka returned his attention to her, and she felt the overwhelming urge to sulk in response to his lack of care.

"Stay here," he ordered her again, like she was the goat being trained.

"Or what?" She asked back, but he had already turned away and was marching away down the corridor, his wide back and shoulders filling the corridor.

"Well, if you do need any help again, at least you'll know where I am," she called after him.

Surprisingly, he actually glanced back over his armoured shoulder before he disappeared from view round the bend in the corridor.

Annoyed and sulky despite her best intentions, she turned back into the lab.

Madesh looked down quickly.

"What?" She asked more aggressively than she had intended.

"Nothing," Madesh replied.

"It was something," she pushed as she finally sat back down in her seat, and then felt annoyed with herself for following Oneakka's orders. She wanted to work on the databases anyway, that was why she was in here.

"You shouldn't push him," Madesh replied after a beat.

"You keep saying that," Seeal muttered as she picked up a tablet to start some new searches and jabbed at the screen. "I say it's about time someone pushed him."

"He is one of the greatest fighters this galaxy has ever known," Madesh replied. "He deserves your respect."

"What makes you think I don't respect him?" She asked looking at him with some surprise.

"The way you don't do what he says."

"I'm not a solider under his command," she reminded him. "He's too used to people doing exactly what he says. It's about time someone didn't let him push them around."

She jabbed at the screen again, aware that her heart was beating faster than normal.

She just hoped this big battle was going to be handled properly by the Elite, because she was starting to kind of like people onboard now and it would be annoying if they were all killed in a big fireball in space.

Silence hung in the air of the lab as she tapped in new search criteria, trying to get her mind to focus properly on the task. However, she could feel Madesh's attention on her and it itched at her senses, telling her to meet his penetrating gaze.

She finally gave in and looked up into his eyes.

He looked back at her in that way he had the first time she had been sat down in front of him. His lie detector power was at work, she guessed. Well, he could look all he wanted, she had nothing to hide. She lifted her chin a little higher and let him look.

Madesh blinked and looked away to the doorway where she and Oneakka had just stood.

A flush of pink filled his cheeks and he looked quickly back down to his work.

"What?" She demanded, surprised at his reaction.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Madesh replied, but he was clearly lying.

"What?" She pushed, worrying a little at the continuing pink stain to his cheeks. Had he read something about how she had talked to Oneakka?

He shook his head. "We should focus on our work. This is all about the work."

She frowned at that comment, feeling a little bit self-conscious now. She dropped her attention to the tablet in her hand and tried to recall what she had been thinking about for the intended search into the databases.

Except she desperately wondered what Madesh had seen, except if she didn't want to know. There was nothing she had to hide...except maybe in a certain area relating to a brutish blue-eyed Elite who had an annoying way of capturing her attention.

And who looked rather too good out of his armour.

She glanced across the table to Madesh again, only to see that he had been sneaking a look at her.

He quickly looked away and she did the same.

Damn it, he knew.

Wraith shit.

000000  
TBC


	41. The Mission

00000

**Chapter 41- The Mission**

After several more unsuccessful attempts to find someone to agree on the fishing trip, Carson was left with the inevitable conclusion that he wasn't going to go on the trip today. A brief consideration that he could go alone was thwarted by his own protocols that stated no one was to be away on the Mainland by themselves, for safety and health reasons, which meant that he would be staying in the city today.

Feeling put out, but now resigned to the fact, he faced the decision as to what to do with an entirely free day.

The ever present stack of paperwork on his desk had come immediately to mind. He was always behind in it, never even close to up-to-date really. Life here moved too quickly and he had so many extra duties as head of medicine for the city. Not only did he have to sign off on all the daily medical exams, emergency care, operations, off world checks and visitors' care, but he also had to write and review protocols for situations that few doctors had been trained, had to write reports for back home, had to run weekly meetings for his staff, oversee training of new staff, and he had to attend department head meetings and emergency meetings. And that didn't include being called off world on a mission. He was always busy, so keeping up on the basic admin of life here just didn't happen.

A free day to sit down with it all and catch up a bit would be useful.

Resigned to the decision, as logical and useful as it was, he headed for the Infirmary. He promised himself that he would go fishing next week with Rodney and Radek. Maybe John and Ford would be back by then too. Lorne might even make time between his paintings.

As he entered to his home away from home, he noted Dr Cole sitting to one side and cleared his voice to catch her attention.

"Slow day?" He asked as he stopped by her side. The place was very quiet, for a change.

"Carson, what the hell are you doing here?" Dr Cole asked. "It's supposed to be your day off."

"Well, my fishing trip is officially a bust," he replied. "So, I figured I'd come in here and actually catch up on some paperwork for the first time in over a year."

"Oh, that's a shame," she offered kindly.

"Aye, it is," he agreed.

She shook her head and leant down towards her computer screen. It didn't take a doctor of his training to see that something was wrong.

"You alright?" He asked.

"A migraine," she replied painfully. "It's a bad one, actually. I took some stuff, but I can't take any more, with me being on call and everything." The poor thing was still trying to work.

"You should have radioed me," he told her.

"Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I was gonna let you miss that fishing trip. It's all you've been talking about for two weeks!"

"Well, I'm not going now, so off you go. I'll cover your shift," he offered. At least someone should benefit from the day off, even if she was going to take more meds and sleep in a darkened room for the rest of the day.

"You sure?" She asked, hope and relief clear in her face though she tried to hide it.

"Aye," he assured her. "There's nothing happening here anyway. You go, take a horse pill and rest."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," she smiled tiredly.

"I know," he smiled at the usual Infirmary joke.

"Thanks, Carson," she stood up and hugged him.

Glad he could do this for her, he hugged her back. "You're welcome."

She moved away, heading towards the drug cabinet with definite relief.

Carson sighed, accepting that events were just clearly out of his control today. He pulled off his fishing vest, realising he was still wearing it, and headed off towards his desk.

At least he could be useful today. That was something.

The record-breaking space trout would just have to wait till next week.

000000

The War Room in the Ballista was quite unlike the people who had created it. The Satedan vessel, the biggest, toughest and deadliest vessel in the Fleet, possibly including the Elite ships, was the epitome of Satedan military strength and show.

The Ballista had more floors than any other Fleet vessel, its corridors impressively wide to accommodate its many warriors, and there was so much weaponry in its hull that sometimes Teyla wondered how it could move. Of course mass was not an issue in space, so the Satedans had made their flagship as impressive and deadly as possible, reflecting their own nature and determination in fighting the Wraith.

The War Room, however, was oddly contained. Set out entirely in white, the walls seem to shine, as did the circular arrangement of seats that stretched around her now. Stood to one side of the open inner space that the seats were set around, she watched as the Fleet's Commanders, at least those able to leave the battle zone in their ship or by transport craft, were gathering.

The Ballista itself had left the frontline battle at Outer Lantana yesterday, pretending to vent atmosphere and be in need of repairs away from the battle. It had however always been intended to be the staging ground for this mission. Everyone was to be briefed here in person, just in case the Wraith had been able to breach their link security. No details of this mission had been released to anyone outside of the Elite and their highest security and science personnel.

The Elite had been planning this mission for almost two years and finally the day was at hand. It felt invigorating to finally be at this point, the Fleet about to be briefed and the mission about to begin.

She nodded towards Si as he entered the inner briefing circle. He had been in deep discussion with several particular Commanders and was now headed towards the computer link that was connected to the large screens above their heads. The screens would display maps, visual demonstrations, and technical details of their plan to the watching Commanders. Si had already ensured everything was ready, but he was checking one last time. After all, the room was nearly full.

She looked around at the uniforms around her, many utilising the opportunity to meet in such large numbers to compare notes with their fellow warriors. A few uniforms looked a little worse for wear, telling of the battle they had just left. She knew every uniform and every face, though a few of those around the room were new to their high stations, having been promoted in the middle of the battle. Some Commanders had been lost, some ships had been lost, but the delicate balance of the Outer Lantana battle had needed to be maintained until now. It had been essential that this region remain on the edge of Alliance space until the technology was ready to face the neighbouring Nest System. That technology, the new weapon against the Wraith, was finally ready, having been developed in strict secrecy on The Mad Moon. After all, this was a weapon that would likely only last for one mission, so it had to be used for one of the most decisive and crushing attacks the Alliance could launch on the Wraith.

Hopefully all would go to plan, even considering the Wraith's increased presence on Giant.

Behind her, she became aware of two voices among the rest. Leant against the innermost wall of the seating, she was close to where John and Lieutenant Ford were settling into their seats. The other Elite had agreed with Atlantis being visibly present during this meeting, for it would serve to consolidate her new Political Marriage contract in the presence of those who would truly appreciate the significance of Atlantis' role in helping battle the Wraith. She was aware of many glances towards John, but no one, not even the Genii lead Commander, had shown any sign of resistance or annoyance at his presence here.

"It's like that scene in Return of the Jedi," Lieutenant Ford's whisper caught at her ears as the room began to quieten, the last of the Commanders finally moving to their seats.

"Which one's the fish head?" John asked back, the meaning lost on her, but she recognised the humour in his voice. However, now was not the time for jokes.

As she moved away from the side, she glanced back at them and John met her look with an instant wince of apology. He had been relatively quiet on the short transport trip here, but that had been because he had been steadfastly watching Si pilot the small craft. Now officially a part of the approaching mission, John had spent the last hour back on the Sythus in The Generator learning how to pilot an Elite transport and ensuring his skills were sufficient. As far as she had heard, his skills so far had been proven, but she had been able to tell from his silence and focus on the way here that he was worried.

However, now was not the time to ponder over the situation with John and her new determination to adapt more skilfully to it. It was time to finally reveal the mission ahead of them.

As she took her place at Si' side at the centre of the War Room, the lights lowered and the screens came alive above them. As she glanced around the watching faces, she noticed a new face that she hadn't expected – Tyre was sat beside the Commander of the Ballista.

The Satedan smiled to her in the diming light. She was not overly surprised Tyre had decided to be here, but wondered how he had known how significant this mission was going to be. She suspected it had been through Ronon, who though based on Sateda while his new son was in his first year, was still a Commander.

She smiled and nodded respectfully to Tyre, to see a moment later that his gaze slid away to the seats behind her. She did not need to check to see who he was looking at. Tyre's attention left John and returned to her with another smile and a nod. Tyre approved of her decision it seemed.

"Call to order!" Si called. His voice carried easily enough in the specially designed room, but his depth of tone and the weight of his reputation was enough for all the Commanders to fall instantly silent. Every eye in the room was on her and Si.

"Welcome Commanders and Representatives," Si began. "This gathering is to brief you on a mission about to begin, one that we intend to be a considerable decisive blow against the Wraith."

Teyla triggered alive the first display for everyone.

A graphic of the local system appeared and then narrowed down to focus on the Nest System.

"As you are all aware," Si intoned, "this solar system, local to the current Outer Lantana battle zone, is known as the Nest System, and has been fully colonised by the Wraith in the last year. Our most accurate readings and estimates predict that it now contains in excess of two hundred Wraith vessels, with at least seven Queens now living in the system. The seven Hives, along with their surviving cruisers have joined together to create what they feel is a strong Wraith foothold in the region and in the galaxy at large. This is the first time in recorded history that they have done so in such large numbers, and it is something that we have encouraged."

Teyla felt the room's interest shift at that last point. Most of the Commanders who had fought in the region knew that the Elite had wished to keep the battle there going as long as possible, and no doubt many had been wondering why the Nest System had been allowed to grow. They were about to find out.

"Our readings indicate that they have used their time to consolidate this foothold," Si continued, "and have created at least one large space station in the system and have colonised several planet surfaces and moons. As you are also aware, they have littered the surrounding area with space mines to prevent incursion into the Nest System. They have created a strong position from which to lead their attack against us, and to provide a sanctuary for other Wraith who have lost the leadership of their own Hive and Queens."

Above Teyla the detailed scans of the Nest played, and she watched the frowns growing on the faces of the Commanders. They did not like what they saw, and she could not blame them.

"They are heavily fortified," Tyre's voice carried from the left.

"Indeed," Si responded.

"Are we really going to attack them there?" Another voice asked filled with doubt and caution.

Si turned to face the voice, though Teyla had not identified its owner.

"Yes," Si replied and Teyla felt the tensions shift in the room. "Because," Si added as he turned to take in the room, "what the Wraith do not know is that the Nest is a trap."

Her turn, Teyla moved forward a step and triggered up the next set of displays for the watching audience.

"Two years ago," she began, "prior to any Wraith colonisation of the now Nest System, the Elite had a small base hidden on the largest exterior planet of that solar system. A previous colony had left buildings and infrastructure in place, but due to the deteriorating atmosphere and weather on this planet, it had been abandoned some time ago. This overly large planet, known to us as The Giant, has a long slow orbit around the solar system's central sun, and spends much of its time in a large nebula that outlines one side of the system."

Above her, the display showed the Nest System prior to colonisation, showing the worlds in the system and where Giant ran its orbit around the sun, disappearing into the long neighbouring nebula halfway round.

"The nebula contains highly charged particles that disrupt almost all scanning frequencies, and therefore provided the very best of concealment for us from the Wraith. Without a Portal remaining on Giant, there was little for the Wraith to find there and we were able to run small operations from the planet during its time inside the nebula. However, once Giant's long slow orbit brought it out of the nebula, our position was soon to be revealed well inside Wraith held space at that time."

She turned in the centre of the room, the screens above showing the images required to help the experienced commanders understand the system they were about to invade. As she triggered up the next sequence of images, she glanced in John's direction to see that the screens had his rapt attention, and so they should, he would be flying into the nebula in question.

"During our time working from Giant," Si picked up the story, "one Queen established her Hive and a base on a formerly populated world in the same system. It was clear to us that she was consolidating with another Queen, the two working together against our forces. As Alliance victories increased, another Queen's Hive joined them in the region, despite there no longer being any humans left in the region to feed upon. Therefore, it was considered that perhaps this new combining and consolidating behaviour of the Wraith could be encouraged."

"Once Giant left the protection of the gaseous clouds," Teyla continued, "our presence was revealed to the Wraith and they struck quickly, driving us out of the region successfully and decisively, as we had them believe.

She called up the next images, looking forward to this particular point in the story. "However, prior to that point, working very carefully, we buried a series of devices underground on all the moons and planets in the system. It was a dangerous set of missions, but highly successful and well timed around the new Queens taking hold in that region." Teyla did not add how the Elite had purposefully timed attacks near the area so as to draw the Queens' attention away at vital moments.

"All of the devices were planted on or near geothermal locations, or in areas able to disguise their faint energy readings," Si explained as two examples appeared on the screens. "Everything set, we encouraged the Wraith to consolidate in the region, and when the time came Giant took us out of the nebula and the Wraith drove us away."

"Except, it was on Giant that we left the main controlling device," Teyla announced. "The Mother Device in question is buried under the surface of Giant, completely inactive and waiting for us to return. And today we shall. Giant is once again in the system's nebula, but as the nebula also lies on the edge of the Lantana system, which is now our side of the border, we will be able to sneak two transport craft into the nebula in order to reach Giant inside undetected."

Teyla turned to watch one of the displays above her show the route for the audience. "One transport craft will land on Giant, using the interference from the nebula and the severe weather to conceal us from Wraith still based on Giant. Once on the surface, our team will return to the Mother Device and activate it. Powered by the extreme geothermal power beneath it, it will transmit a signal to all the other buried devices in the Nest System."

"Triggering explosives?" Tyre's voice asked.

"Not quite," Teyla answered his question, turning towards his voice outside the brighter shine of the screens. "Leaving explosive devices would likely have been detected by the Wraith, and besides detonations alone will not cause enough damage, and certainly will not affect the Wraith ships in orbit. No, this mission is to use something else. It is technology that the Elite have been working on for some time, and which has only recently come to fruition."

Si stepped forward. "As you all know, Wraith technology is not disrupted by EM fields like our own, but our scientists have endeavoured to find a type of field which will disrupt their systems. And they have finally succeeded in discovering a precise combined frequency that will disrupt all Wraith technology, essentially disrupting communication between Wraith organic and inorganic components. Hit by this field, all Wraith tech in our tests have lost all control and power."

Murmuring rose in the room, the military minded already ahead of the plan now.

"Our mission on Giant," Teyla added, "is to upload this frequency into the Mother Device and transmit it to all the other devices buried in the Nest System. These will then transmit out the frequency across the planets and hopefully high up into orbit, disrupting all Wraith tech it touches."

"For how long?" One Commander asked.

Teyla smiled grimly. "For at least a standard hour." There was surprised murmuring.

"This frequency not only cuts communication between their systems, but seems to interrupt all power flow," Si informed them. "However, it is a very precise frequency that once revealed to the Wraith as a weakness, will likely be easy for them to shield in the future. Therefore, this new Wraith EM field may well only last for this mission, and perhaps only at the outset."

"How can you be sure it will work at all?" Tyre asked, leaning forward into the light. "If you've tested it already, could the Wraith already know about it?"

"All tests on Wraith tech were conducted in strictly isolated labs in Alliance space," Teyla replied. "There is no way for the Wraith to know we have this yet."

"Exactly how far will the field carry?" Someone else asked.

"That is undetermined at this time," Si replied. "The results will vary on the worlds it is used, as some planetary atmospheres may dissipate some of the field or magnify it. Either way, it is likely that many of the Wraith vessels away from planetary and moon orbits, as well as the space station and the outlying mines, will remain active."

"However," Teyla put in quickly. "Once the EM field has been generated by the concealed devices, they will purposefully overload their power supplies causing multiple detonations across the planet and moon surfaces. By their placements and our experience in the instability of Wraith power systems, we estimate that several of the largest Wraith colonised areas will be destroyed by the ensuing repercussive detonations."

"How can you be sure that these devices have not been discovered while the Wraith have been in control of the system since you left Giant?" A voice asked carefully.

"We cannot," Teyla replied simply. "Which is why part of the Fleet, that which can be spared from the Outer Lantana battle, will hold back from the edge of the mine field until the damage is seen. If the EM fields are successful and the devices then detonate, the result should be obvious enough. Once that is underway, the Sythus at the front of the battle lines will emit the same EM field towards local space mines, clearing a way into the Nest System," she concluded the plan.

It had been a very forward thinking and somewhat hopeful plan when it was first conceived, but the technology had arrived to see it through and the time was now. The Mad Moon had done its very best work in finding the precise frequency needed for this to work, and with the Fleet so close by, it was time to clean out the Nest.

"We have enough ships," the Genii head Commander considered. "Setting in en mass from one direction will enable us to focus and blast our way through the system."

"Many Wraith may flee," someone else put in. "Build up a new nest elsewhere."

"It is possible," Teyla replied as she moved through the lit centre of the room. "However, never before or since have such a large group of Wraith been in one place. This will be decisive and very destructive for them. And it will strike fear into the Queens. They began this nest in their own territory, working together against us, and yet we will strike at them from the heart of it."

Conversation broke out through the War Room.

"Will the EM field damage our own systems?" A voice carried over the talk and the voices lowered.

"No," Teyla replied, "And the Fleet will be too far out even if it could."

"Can the Sythus not keep emitting the EM frequency while in the Nest system? Why not let other ships emit it as well?" Someone asked.

"The Sythus will, but in short bursts, as we do not want to help speed up the still remaining powered Wraith vessels gaining resistance to it too quickly by our overusing it. We must be cautious."

More conversation filled the air.

"All details of the Nest System, including our latest scans, are supplied in the pads provided," Si intoned and the room quiet fell again, but it was heightened now with the excitement of a battle about to be fought. "Nothing of this is to be discussed via any link until Strike point. We will arrange all positions along the mine field line here before you depart to your ships. To victory."

"To Victory!" The room chorused in return and burst into expert and decisive activity.

000000

It felt hot and unnecessarily sweaty in the gym today. Dr Harriet Hewston slowed her rate on the cross trainer, working to get her breath back. After last night's unfortunate long stay in the Infirmary to hear back about her and Jim's tests, she had let herself enjoy a nice lie in this morning. The rest had been good, but she still felt slightly sluggish today. It was probably because it had taken her so long to fall asleep after having been subjected to Dr McKay's lecture last night. The man could be so arrogant it was ridiculous. But, that was last night, today was a rest day and she intended to enjoy it.

Her lie in had meant she had missed one of the open Marine training sessions this morning, so instead she had decided to spend a good few hours on the machines in the gym. Sweated through and feeling somewhat more alive, she stepped off the cross trainer and reached for her towel.

She wondered if the environmental controls in here weren't working properly as she felt quite hot even for after a workout. She'd have a look at the systems later – no, tomorrow, because today was her day off and she was going to take it.

It was likely just too hot in here after some over testosterone-fuelled workouts earlier this morning. Even the Ancient efficient air flow system throughout the city couldn't quite take away that nasty smell of stale body odour.

Wrinkling her nose at just the mere thought, she climbed onto one of the exercise bikes. That sharp pain lanced in her side again. She was pretty sure she had pulled an intercostal muscle or maybe even bruised a rib or something. Still, it would ease off and wouldn't hold her back from her exercise routine.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and set the pedals turning. She'd stay in here another half hour maybe, then go change and have a late lunch. Then, the rest of the day was free to do anything she wanted.

Mandatory rest days – she could really get used to them.

000000

The Sythus' Shuttle Bay, or whatever they called it, was busy. The two Elite Shuttles filled most of the bay and scientists and technicians were swarming over them. John was used to that kind of activity, letting the techs do their work before the fighter took off. He had faith that all the busyness was useful and important, that the Elite didn't take shortcuts. What he didn't quite have so much faith in was the atmosphere suit he was dressed in ready for his little trip to the planet known as Giant. The dark brown, almost skin-tight suit was crisscrossed with what felt like pipes inside the fabric, the paths of the pipes outlined in metallic bronze. On his back he wore a small backpack that was partly woven into the suit itself, inside of which was a worryingly small piece of apparatus that would apparently keep him supplied with enough air for a whole day. Apparently the thing recycled what he breathed out and filtered in air from the atmosphere outside the suit.

He tried not to feel nervous about wearing something so new to him into a possible fight, but that was okay, because he was far more nervous about the full glass face mask that currently hung off his arm. Si had said something about the seal of the mask literally bonding directly with the skin of his face so it wouldn't come off during the mission. Thing was, John's movie programmed brain kept playing with the idea of what would happen if something hit him hard enough for the mask to come free - would it take half his face off with it?

Then there was the fact that he had only had a 'crash course' in the flight controls of the Elite shuttle. Stood near the shuttles, one of which he would help fly to Giant, he frowned down at the simulator displayed on the console in front of him. The lead pilot had set him up with the exam before takeoff. The shuttle's flight controls John could get his head around, the problem was that everything else, all the switches and displays were in a language he couldn't read. He'd been trying to swot up on the basic words while the Sythus had worked its roundabout route close to the backside of the nebula that they were going to sneak into and use for cover all the way to Giant.

"How's it going, Major?" Ford's voice arrived at his side.

John made sure he looked more confident than he felt. "Okay," he replied as he jabbed at the answer to the question the console had just asked him. It flashed blue, confirming he had correctly identified the port side lower engine.

The Elite shuttles had six engines that could all have their thrust redirected in a multitude of directions. John understood the concept, had flown enough birds, Earth made and Ancient, to know how it all worked, it was the technical bits of knowing which buttons to press, which readouts to watch – those were the details that he wasn't sure about. You didn't want to go pressing the wrong buttons mid flight, especially when you might have a pack of Wraith on your tail.

"You'll do fine, Major," Ford concluded. How he could feel that way was anyone's guess, but John appreciated the support.

John pulled a face at the next question on the console, which displayed a fast approaching bogey, in flight impact imminent. John tapped the three controls that would redirect thrust, two more that would power forward, and then sent the simulated shuttle down and under the left wing of the Wraith ship. The simulator flashed red and then blue.

Another incoming Wraith displayed to the left on the screen.

"Go right," Ford whispered peering at the screen over John's arm.

John turned the shuttle's controls via tapping the flat buttons without any _feel_ of what the shuttle really would feel like, taking his pretend shuttle into a dive down left towards the Wraith ship. He pulled up a second display which provided weapons systems. He'd been focusing on the Alliance words of those closely too. He triggered off several shots into the belly of the Wraith ship and turned the shuttle's thrust to swing round behind the Wraith ship. He didn't need to shoot again, simulated fire covered the Wraith cruiser and it broke into pieces.

"Cool," Ford grinned. "Nice hit."

John brushed off the compliment as a series of questions came up across the screen. He waited as they went through the translation screen and came up in English. After each simulation he had to answer a series of questions on the controls and pressure readings. He had no idea about the pressures and limits of the shuttle, so kept getting those wrong, but he was getting better at the rest.

"Their weapons systems automatically target in on the highest energy signature when they're fired," John explained to Ford as he pondered over which control on the display was the fuel gauge. What fuel did the thing even use? Was the translation even right? It wasn't like they were going to be able to stop at a gas station to refuel.

"You can't shoot where you want to?" Ford frowned as John jabbed in an answer. The screen flashed red for 'wrong, you idiot'. John tried not to squirm inside his overly clingy Elite atmosphere suit.

"You can reprogram it," John replied. "Not that I know how to yet," he added as he chewed on his lip over the next question. He jabbed the symbol he was sure was the right answer. The screen flashed red again. "Damn it," he cursed quietly, glancing up from the console to the busy mass of the Shuttle Bay again.

Si had appeared and was moving across the space between the two shuttles. He wore the same brown and bronze suit, but he had, in typical form, covered most of it with a mass of weaponry.

John had been given two space guns, one on each hip, which felt a little awkward for him, but he'd made sure he understood how they worked when Tyoosi had given them to him. They had basic enough stun and kill settings, and the power cells in them would last over two thousand shots. That sounded good, but John had seen them run out on the Elite before, leaving them to hand to hand fighting, so he'd taken two spare power cells, just in case.

"Incoming," Ford muttered a warning and John looked up to see Seifer walking towards them, his flash of blue paint in his hair looking brighter in comparison to his own brown and bronze suit.

Unfortunately, the console was still flashing red as the Elite warrior reached them. He looked down at the console and back up at John with a sneer.

"That does not instil confidence, Earth Man," Seifer stated.

"I'm still getting to grips with the language," John found himself making the excuse.

Seifer looked down at the console, which was now displaying the next question...in English. "If you don't understand it in your own language..."

"Flying is about feel," John explained.

"Then you should be with the other pilots on the Ballista flying fighters," Seifer replied. "Then you can feel the blast of Wraith weapons easily enough."

Had that been a threat? It had felt like a threat.

"I've got more experience in atmospheric engagements," John explained calmly. "But if the Elite want me in a fighter; I'll go get in one." He held the Elite's glare with his own.

Unlike Si or Oneakka, Seifer was closer to John's own build, though the Elite warrior obviously sported a bit more muscle than him. But when it came to physical intimidation, Seifer had nothing on Oneakka. Oneakka hadn't liked John at first, but Seifer seemed to continue to have something against John. Well, that didn't bother John right now - it wasn't like he wasn't used to that kind of attitude from Sumner.

"Your part in this mission," Seifer stated as he stepped closer to the other side of the console, bringing him almost into John's personal space, "is to assist in piloting the transport craft and then being Wraith fodder if they attack. Your marriage contract means nothing out there in battle, so don't think it means you're any less likely to die than anyone else."

Wraith fodder?

Beside John, Ford shifted uneasily, uncomfortable and unsure how to behave in the situation. Elite were to be respected, and he and Ford were on the guy's turf, but they weren't here to be pushed around and fed to Wraith.

"We'll keep the Wraith off your back while you program your device," John replied, his tone as neutral as he could keep it, but he held the man's stare. Seifer wasn't the first hotshot who thought pilots were just decoration on a mission, there just to drop off and pick up. Fortunately, John hadn't faced that kind of prejudice in Atlantis. Or was Seifer's problem that John wasn't Alliance?

"See that you do," Seifer replied into the glaring match. "Because this mission is vital and if you ruin it, then I will personally lead an invasion force on Atlantis."

It was a stupid empty threat, surely...

Seifer kept the glare as he moved away, almost walking into Inifee, the main pilot who had been setting John up with the training simulations and tests.

"Honoured Elite," Inifee dodged the grumpy Elite warrior with ease and no doubt practise.

Inifee stepped up next to John at the console and tapped it, pulling up John's results. "Don't worry about him," Inifee uttered quietly. "What we need to worry about is if you can actually assist in getting to Giant."

John pulled his eyes from Seifer's back where he was now talking with Nalla and Si. "That bad, huh?" He asked.

Inifee looked up from the console, his deeply dark skin crinkling with a pained smile. "You said you're experienced in atmospheric manoeuvres, well no one's experienced enough to land on what Giant is likely going to throw at us. Sometimes Giant is calm, sometimes it's a nightmare."

John frowned at the man's lack of optimism.

Inifee smiled again as he tapped away on the console's screens. "The good news for us all is that you're getting good marks on basic piloting, it's the controls and numbers you're terrible at."

"Can he still go?" Ford asked anxiously.

"_Basic_ piloting?" John asked though, deeply affronted at the passing comment.

Inifee smiled widely again – he did that a lot. "I saw the data feeds on the Hastos' last flight, so I have no doubt you can fly a box. It's flying a box through torrential rain, gale force winds, and sudden forming tornados that we're interested in from you."

John frowned worriedly. "Tornados?"

"On an alien world the like of which I'm sure you have never seen before," Inifee added with another grin.

"Are you enjoying this?"

Inifee lifted his golden eyes from the console. "It's going to be fun."

"Fun?" John smiled back at him. Yep, Inifee was a real flyboy right through.

"Do not worry," Inifee touched a hand wrapped up in his own atmospheric suit to John's arm. "I have a few tricks," he glanced aside. "We'll talk in a moment."

John looked round to see that Teyla was headed their way.

She was, like the others on the mission, dressed in the same brown and bronze atmospheric suit, but on her the suit looked amazing. It clung to her curves like a second skin, showing every dimple and swelling, and as she walked towards him her hips rocked to one side and then the other, the swinging motion mesmerising.

His brain vaguely registered that she had some guns on those hips and the hilts of her swords were protruding from either side of her lower back today, but he barely noticed them.

Her attention was currently directed off to the side, looking over the shuttles, transport craft, whatever they were called. Her hair was braided back tightly off her face, right back to the ends of the strands today, the ends fixed to the back of her head, allowing the lines of her throat and upper shoulders to be seen for a change.

She looked round towards him, and he met her gaze directly out of habit, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to be looking at her like that anymore.

Except, wasn't she technically his wife now? Didn't that mean that out of the entire galaxy, he was the most justified in noticing how gorgeous she was?

He pulled his eyes away as Inifee moved next to him.

"Honoured Elite," Inifee greeted her as she approached. "His results are fine."

John glanced at Inifee quickly. "That's not what you just told me," he muttered.

Teyla paused on the other side of the console, stood where Seifer had been only moments ago. Teyla looked from Inifee to John and back again. John almost thought he saw a sparkle of humour in her eyes, but it had been ages since he'd seen that so he wasn't certain. She was clearly in her calm Elite mode, all ready and relaxed before the dangerous trip to a planet with an apparent "nightmare" atmosphere.

"The fine details can be sorted pre-flight and in observing on the way to Giant," Inifee assured Teyla.

"It would perhaps be best that he second you, Inifee?" Teyla asked.

"Happily," Inifee agreed. "I'll start pre-flight and see you," he nudged John's side, "in that transport craft."

John made a show of rubbing his side. "Sure." Inifee smiled, picked up a bag and headed off across the bay to the left hand shuttle. He was practically skipping there. "At least someone's looking forward to this," John observed as he made himself look back at Teyla.

She held his gaze. "You do not have to go," she stated, surprising him.

"Hey," he shrugged dismissively, "We've been on far worse than this. Right?" He looked round at Ford, who nodded immediately.

"There was that planet with the dinosaurs that took down a Jumper," Ford offered and John nodded.

"And that time I flew McKay and me off that planet with the exploding Ancient power source," John added.

"And you found that Jumper at the bottom of the ocean that McKay had crashed," Ford recalled.

John shrugged casually again as he looked back at Teyla. "All in a day's work."

"Dinosaurs?" She asked.

"There's none of those on Giant, right?" John asked her.

There was almost a proper smile in response, and it lit him up brighter than anything else could have done.

"No, there are no creatures larger than a rat on Giant," she assured him, her eyes dropping to his atmospheric suit. "They have checked your equipment?"

"Do you mean the suit?" He joked suggestively, aware that he was working from some sort of nervous need to make her smile again.

One of her eyebrows lifted slightly and though she gave him a look for that one, that sparkle was definitely there again around her eyes. Had something changed? He had worried that his going to the other Elite to get him in on this mission might have upset her, but she seemed almost the opposite. She seemed more relaxed than she'd been in days. It was probably because it was fight time and she loved being an Elite more than anything.

"Everything's been checked," he assured her more seriously. "The suit is, ah," he shifted in place, "snug in places."

Her eyes dropped to the console, which blocked the area in question from her view. Her eyes rose to his again, and this time there was definitely a faint smile. "As long as everything is secure," she said, and he smiled back.

Okay, their first real relaxed exchange in days was over a joke about his manhood, but he'd take it.

She looked away though, the moment ending instantly. Si was waving her over to join the other Elite.

"We shall be leaving shortly, best join Inifee onboard and familiarise yourself with the craft," she ordered. "Lieutenant Ford, if you could report to Tyoosi, you will be escorted up to Central Station."

"Yes, Ma'am," Ford nearly saluted as she walked away.

It was time to go. John adjusted the straps of the atmospheric mask over his arm and stepped around from behind the console. "Be back soon, Lieutenant," he said overly cheerfully to Ford. "Take care of the place."

"You sure you don't want me to go with you, Sir?" Ford asked as he followed at John's elbow towards the waiting shuttle.

They'd already had this conversation a ton of times over the last hour.

"I can watch your back," Ford insisted again as they passed through the busy bay towards the open side hatch of the shuttle that John would be helping to pilot down through twister hell.

John pulled up and turned to Ford. "I need you here," he concluded for the kid. "If I don't make it back, you get back to Atlantis and make sure they know I volunteered for this. Hopefully, we'll at least take out a ton of Wraith with this mission, so we're helping Atlantis out just as much as the Elite and Alliance here."

Ford nodded, but didn't look all that convinced.

"Be careful," Ford added. "Not just from the Wraith," he glanced past John's shoulder and John looked round to see Seifer looking their way. "I don't trust him," Ford muttered leaning closer.

John turned his back to Seifer again. "It'll be okay. At the end of the day, we're all on the same side."

"Does he know that?" Ford asked.

John glanced round again to see that Seifer had lost interest in them. "Hope so."

A buzzer played through the bay and the mass of scurrying techs sped up around them.

John looked round from the ordered chaos and met Ford's gaze. "You be careful too, Lieutenant."

"I'll keep an eye on the Sythus for you, Sir," Ford joked, but his back was already straightening and John knew what was coming. Ford snapped a picture perfect salute.

John returned the salute for the kid, and, hell, it could be the last time. "Make sure you get home," John ordered him again as he moved away.

Ford nodded as he lowered his hand, his expression worried and, as John walked away, the kid looked lost and alone among the busy bay crew. John waved to him one last time as he reached the shuttle, and then quickly and decisively climbed up into it.

The noise of the bay dropped instantly inside, with only the tapping of Inifee working in the piloting consoles the only sounds to be heard. John moved through in to join him, slipping down into the empty left hand pilot seat.

"Now we're away from watching eyes," Inifee said as John settled down, "here are the tricks of the trade." He held out a small note pad and what looked like a pen. It was the first biro like thing John had seen in the Alliance so far.

John took the offered items in his bronze gloved hands.

"I was part of the Fleet before I was offered a place working for the Elite," Inifee continued. "There's every type of ship you can imagine in the Fleet, from half the planets of the Alliance, and more often than not you found yourself at the helm of a ship labelled in a language you barely knew." He tapped the pad in John's hand. "This is how we got by," he smiled as he pulled off the top piece of paper and pressed it against the edge of the cockpit console. The paper stuck and Inifee grinned.

"Sticky notes?" John smiled.

Inifee shrugged. "I tell you what a control is, you write what you call it and stick them on. I know all the systems, so don't worry about covering any labels."

Inifee began flicking switches above his head. "So, to run over everything, this here is the main power, these the power-ups for the engines. These transport craft are the best at heating up fast and reaching full power quick, but the sequence has to be right." John nodded as he watched. "You start at the back and work forward," Inifee explained. "These symbols here, you see them across the controls here and here, remember they mean 'power."

John pressed a button on top of the pen and a nib like triangle appeared at the other end. He quickly copied the power symbol on a note and stuck it on the edge of the console in front of him.

He could feel the pre-flight kicking in under him.

"Then you work through your basic pre-flight, like I showed you earlier in the simulator," Inifee replied, his fingers moving over the cockpit with an ease that John normally understood. "Engine power is computer controlled to almost highest spec, but if you need to get anything more out of any of the engines, the magic switches are these." He pointed to six red covered buttons."

"Don't press the red buttons?" John met Inifee's golden eyes.

Inifee smiled. "Only use in exceptional circumstances. The engines will fire high and fast, but you lose about half your manoeuvring ability with it."

John nodded as he ran his eye over the controls, picking out what he knew.

"From warm up," Inifee went on, "the basics are as with any other ship. The trick with these babies is the thrust. You've got six engines to watch over. They are amazing to use, but you've got to concentrate." John nodded as he scribbled a few more notes from what he remembered from the simulation. He checked each one with Inifee before he stuck on the sticky notes, each one fortunately right so far.

Inifee was barely through his quick and thorough brief as people started boarding into the shuttle behind them. John glanced over his shoulder to see four security crew armoured up in their atmospheric suits and then Seifer. John looked back to Inifee.

Like he was surprised Seifer was on the same team as him. Typical.

"What I need you to do," Inifee continued as if he didn't suddenly have an audience, "is work navigation. Those screens in front of you," John triggered them alive. "They should display in your language," Inifee promised. John tapped the little corner light that he thought of as the 'menu' button for all the Elite screens. He recognised the Alliance words for translation now and English displayed among a long list. He tapped it, hoping that it wasn't going to be like a badly translated manual for putting together a shelving unit back home.

The screens flickered and then made sense. The screen to his left was a display of the region, the central screen showing an x-rayed through view of the bay ahead of him, and the right one looked almost like a radar display.

Someone else boarded the shuttle and John heard the hatch being secured.

"All ready, Honoured Elite," Inifee called.

"All ready," Teyla replied.

John looked round in surprise at the sound of her voice. She was settling into a seat in the back, securing in.

He hadn't expected her to be on his team, or rather him on hers. After everything, he expected that she'd want to be as far away from him as possible.

However, having her in the shuttle suddenly made him feel better about the whole thing. He turned back to the controls with a strange new sense of confidence and watched as Inifee powered up the shuttle to full power, quietly talking John through every step as he did.

Outside the bay doors slid smoothly aside, revealing the darkness of space and the twinkling of stars.

"Transport One and Transport Two," Halling's voice arrived through the air, from speakers John couldn't see and didn't know how to control. "Departure in three seconds, two, one."

Inifee pushed the throttle forward, the two controls easy enough for John to identify among his own set of controls. He watched all the screens, whilst watching Inifee, and trying to absorb everything all at once.

"Transport One clear of bay," Inifee reported loudly. Okay, so John was in Transport One – that was probably a good piece of knowledge to have.

"Transport Two clear of bay," another voice replied.

"Follow your prescribed routes into the nebula," Halling replied. "Sythus departing for Outer Lantana now. Victory awaits us."

John watched his right hand screen and watched as the dot that was identified as the Sythus blurred and was then gone, leaving just one other little dot, the other shuttle alongside his own. He leant forward to look past Inifee, out through the side porthole, and could see the other shuttle several metres away and a few inches behind them.

The pitch changed and he looked forward again, watching as Inifee adjusted their heading. Already John could feel the ship under him, relate what he saw with what he felt. This was how you really learnt to fly a bird, with feel. Simulators could only teach you so much, and John had always had a natural ability to get the 'feel' of a bird in flight.

Ahead of them, he could see the nebula come into view, appearing like a wall of pinks, blues and greens dancing through the emptiness of space. He dropped his attention to the central screen and read out the course numbers to Inifee as he'd been taught. The predicted direct course through to Giant had been uploaded to his screens already apparently, but John knew that no flight ran straight to course. Besides, who knew what you could find inside a nebula.

As the wall of colour grew closer, numbers began to spill over one screen. "I'm reading high levels of..." he frowned at the words which weren't translated into English.

Inifee glanced at his own screen. "High density particles. Those are our friends, highly charged and disturbing all sensor readings. Once we are inside the nebula, only some sensors will work, and we will be relying on our eyes, which is why you are especially important as navigator."

"Good to know," John uttered as he switched his attention between watching Inifee, watching the three screens, and trying not to feel like Seifer's eyes were burning into the back of his neck.

"I'm assuming there's likely to be the chance of a few Wraith hiding in the nebula too?" John checked.

"Of course," Inifee replied. "Would not be as much fun if they were not. But there's one advantage we have over them."

"That we know they're in there?" John guessed.

"True, but also windows," Inifee tapped the glass to his right. "Wraith use sensors to look outside, while we know the best pilots use their eyes as well."

John grinned at that. "Yes, they do."

"Once we are on course inside the nebula, you can take the controls for awhile," Inifee promised. "Get a good feel for her and we can practise some manoeuvres."

"Great," John nodded as he tapped on his central screen, calling up more data to see if he understood any of it.

"Here we go," someone said over the radio from the other shuttle.

"Here we go indeed," Inifee repeated.

John looked up at the swelling bright cloud filling the view. A cloud that could be concealing any number of Wraith ships, and eventually a planet housing a Wraith base close to where they were going to secretly land and find a buried device.

Yet again, John had put himself in a crazy situation.

As the colours of the nebula glowed through the cockpit, John glanced over his shoulder back into the shuttle.

Teyla was watching out the front, as everyone was from their seats. It was difficult to tell with the strange light and the angle that he had, but he was almost certain that she met his gaze for a moment.

00000  
TBC


	42. Explosive Decisions

**Note:** Sorry there were no new chapters last weekend – I've had a lovely couple of weeks busy with friends and family. I am hoping to get another chapter out tomorrow hopefully (depends on the rewrite), but thought it best to get at least one chapter out for you guys. Especially considering the nudges and subtle begging that has been going on :)

00000

**Chapter 42 – Explosive Decisions**

The haze of hyperspace filled the view from Central Station.

It was a view that Halling usually found relaxing. The sense of movement was usually calming for him, making him think of times spent walking through the forests of Athos. His earliest memories as a young child on Athos were based around walking through forests, across open plains, or through tall grassy fields. The memories were so sharp, so vibrantly perfect, that he suspected much of them had been exaggerated with sentiment and grief in the many years since. Thinking back to those early years, when both his parents had been alive, he always seemed to be in motion, either walking around the camp, walking to other camps, helping plant the fields, harvest the crops – everything seemed to be in motion, in process.

That sense of constant activity and travel had continued for him in his adult life, for being an Elite involved almost constant motion from one battle to another. It seemed to him that there was more travel involved in his work than actual warfare. And in those times of travel he particularly enjoyed the evening rotation in Central Station, which would allow him quiet moments to be able to just sit and watch hyperspace spiralling towards him. It always stirred up the same sense of calm for him as walking through tall Athosian forests or across a warm flower-scented field.

Today they were travelling into battle once again. It was hardly the first battle he had sat and waited for the approaching battle to begin, but unlike before, this time not even the spiralling beauty of hyperspace could conjuror up his usual sense of calm, of peace.

The agitation would not go away. If anything, it was growing worse, disturbing his sleep and buzzing constantly at raw nerves. Sitayi' expression at Teyla's wedding would not leave his mind's eye, and his analysis of her look haunted his thoughts and agitated his entire body.

Now that he was travelling along the last stage towards one of the largest battles of recent Alliance history, which could perhaps change the very course of the entire war against the Wraith, meant that Sitayi' look haunted him even more so.

He had known Sitayi a very long time. In truth, he could not remember not knowing her. She had been a frequent visitor to the camp on Athos, as she was an old friend of Charin's, and as such she was as familiar to him as the actual members of the camp. Through the years since, she had continued to be on the sidelines of his life through her close connection to Athos, being Ambassador for her people. She was a regular presence in the Governing Complex in Tjaru, and had strong ties with Torren and Teyla. When Halling visited Tjaru with Teyla, Sitayi was nearly always present, and he had always secretly believed that she had arranged it that way. It was understandable that she would wish to see Teyla and him, considering that she was an Ambassador and their Elite status, but in truth all conversations in such meetings were centred around those of close friends and family. To him she fell into the same category as Charin: an extended family member who was so integral to his history that her presence and warm and wise company was simply expected and enjoyed.

It was because of that closeness, that familiarity, and perhaps his own status as an Elite, which provided him with the honour of knowing the truth depths of her 'gift'. He could not entirely recall when he had learnt of her power and when he had accepted the truth of it, but it was clearly quite some time ago. He vaguely recalled that she had told him when he was a young boy that he would be a powerful warrior, an Elite, but the details were too familiar, too long ago, and too much a part of him. He had accepted her gift as a natural part of her wisdom and kindness. She had never once provided overt prognostications in his presence, but she had before made occasional subtle comments to people that had seemed to linger with deeper meaning. She would often have a certain, soft, delightful and almost hopeful look to her elderly violet eyes when she made such comments, but never did she outright state what she saw. He assumed she did for some, and Teyla had suggested as much, but the details and occasions of her divinations for people were held closely private.

He could now understand why that was so more than ever before.

For never had he seen such an expression as she had directed towards him at Teyla's wedding. In all the years that he had known Sitayi, through all the events and hardships she had witnessed alongside his, Charin's, and Teyla's families had he witnessed such outright raw emotion in her expression.

An expression that had been solely directed towards him.

An expression from a powerful, accurate, Seer.

As much as he had tried to ignore what he had seen in her, it was haunting him with what seemed to be only one inevitable explanation. He could think of only one reason why a woman with Sitayi' magical and accurate gift would look at him in the manner she had... A look filled with such haunted...regret.

She had foreseen his death.

Admitting that obvious conclusion to himself had taken days, but now sat here, watching the ethereal and beautiful colours of hyperspace, he had to face what it meant.

He had not heard of her ever having been wrong before.

He should have confronted her at the wedding, for then he could have pushed her for details of what she saw, details that might save him, or at least enable him to recognise his final moments when they arrived.

As an Elite warrior he was used to facing the prospect of dying, it was a potential in every day of his life in a very real way, but it seemed that he was not as prepared as he had previously thought. That Sitayi had seen his end, which was very real evidence of its fast approach, disturbed him more than anything ever had before. He felt as if each moment was bleeding away from him; that his life was ticking slowly and inevitably away, but he did not know how much time he had remaining. However, the timing of this seemed somewhat significant considering the magnitude of the battle he was about to take part in.

Was his death only hours away?

Minutes away?

He glanced at a nearby display to his right, his gaze snapping to the time displayed in one corner.

The Sythus was due to arrive at the prescribed coordinates very soon.

There was no way to know for certain how long it would then take the two teams headed to Giant to complete their mission, and if that mission would be successful, but the battle would most likely begin within the hour.

His vision seemed to dim slightly as he stared at the displayed time, watching, waiting, as it ticked each second of his life away.

A soft rush of sound behind him was the hatchway opening and he instantly recognised the quiet stride of Oneakka's footsteps.

Forcing himself to look away from the time display, Halling looked round as his friend approached the tactical display table.

"How long?" Oneakka asked as he headed for a seat on the other side of the table from Halling. Between them they could observe every screen and display at the back of Central Station this way, and from here see the front screen which would display all exterior camera angles during the battle.

He could only hope that if his death was fast approaching, that it did not mean that the Sythus would be taken with him. Or that he would face his death suffocating and freezing in the vacuum of space outside the Sythus' hull.

A rush of fearful worry tore through him, forcing words up into his throat to warn Oneakka, to beg him to turn the Sythus around. But, the Elite in Halling would not turn from a battle and the Athosian in him demanded he stand proud in the face of fear.

And besides, he knew from Sitayi herself that the events she foresaw would always occur, regardless of the changes she had tried to make in her youth. Her look of soul deep frustrated regret in that fact had touched Halling before, but now haunted him.

So what was the point in telling Oneakka, of worrying him, by voicing that which Halling was so desperately afraid and could not change?

"We're almost there," he uttered instead to his friend, and the truth of the statement was not lost on him. The question was: how close?

Oneakka settled down beside the display table and huffed out an impatient breath. As always, he was eager to get to the battle and not sit around waiting for it.

Halling wished he could feel the same. It occurred to Halling that if it had been Oneakka who had learnt he was soon to die, that Oneakka would probably go racing faster into each battle, fiercely, decisively, aggressively facing his death nose to nose. Halling had thought himself as brave as that, but now, faced with the horrifying truth, he felt nothing but terror and regret.

He had achieved much in his career, but so much had passed him by. He had lost all his family, had never married or had any children. If he had lived another life, one in which he had not joined the Elite, how would his life have developed differently? Or what if he had pushed a decision from Methren? Had asked her forthright to make a decision, had spoken of his feelings earlier? Would they have had a chance at a life together? Would he be here now, on the Sythus, about to face his end if that or some other small difference had occurred?

"Tyoosi' happy everything's ready," Oneakka reported unnecessarily as Halling had seen the report.

"The crew are more than ready," Halling found himself reassuring his friend automatically, the words arriving easily for him out of habit and care.

The habit belied the fact that, although he had hoped to remain calm in the face of his probable approaching death, he had seen that the others had noticed something was amiss with him. He had considered sharing this weight with others, but what was the point? If he did so, they might endanger themselves unnecessarily in hopes of saving him. Instead, he would steadfastly face his end, be decisive when the time of his last battle arrived.

"Being ready for hours more won't help the crew be alert when the time comes," Oneakka muttered as he idly tapped a display screen, looking at the latest data from the probe spying on Giant. The probe was fast leaving scanning range of Giant, which was well timed, for they would not want the Wraith discovering it while the teams were on Giant.

Halling watched Oneakka jab overly hard at a display button and felt a renewed wash of affection for his friend. They had known each other for so long, had seen each other through hardships and, though they had fought bitterly over Methren, there was no one else in the Universe more akin to a brother to him. The love Halling felt for Oneakka was very real, and he realised that he had not spent quite as much time alone with his friend of late. It was because of Seeal's presence, and Halling was suddenly aware of a sense of jealousy around his thoughts of her. Bemused at that awareness, he frowned away towards the sight of hyperspace once more.

He had had his concerns about Seeal, but she seemed willing to use her skills for the benefit of the Elite and the Alliance, and Halling trusted Oneakka's view of her. Despite the near constant arguing and bickering between Oneakka and Seeal, Oneakka continued to report that she was trustworthy enough...for now. He always added that caveat, and it had seemed to Halling that Oneakka had been going out of his way to keep close watch over Seeal. That had taken up much of his time, and Halling had been quite folded in on his own worries these last few days. He had not wanted to be around the loud annoying bickering between Oneakka and Seeal, so had kept his distance in that respect as well. However, it was only now that he realised that he felt a little jealous of Seeal taking up so much of Oneakka's time.

He looked back at Oneakka, to see that he was looking through the ship' activity logs, watching the lists of repeated drills in a vain attempt to distract himself from the boredom preceding battle.

"The crew is experienced in remaining alert," he reminded Oneakka, "and there will be plenty of fighting to entertain you once we reach the Nest System," he added.

Oneakka smiled faintly in silent acknowledgement of his true frustration. He set one pale bare forearm along the edge of the table and reached out with his other arm tapped through other data screens. There was nothing new to see, but Oneakka always needed to be doing something.

The fearful words rose up into Halling's throat again...desperate to be conveyed to Oneakka. He felt the overwhelming urge to share his fears, to make it clear that he loved his brother-in-arms dearly, and that Oneakka must ensure that the Sythus survived regards as what might happen to him. Except...Halling couldn't find the words, couldn't force the fears into words.

Oneakka's blue eyes lifted up from the screens, looking at Halling from under his pale brow as if he had sensed the potential moment in which Halling was about to speak.

Halling simply smiled and looked away, his eyes returning to the swirling beauty of hyperspace.

His heart hammering in his chest, Oneakka's gaze feeling heavy on his profile, he worked through old, worn, meditation techniques to calm himself.

After a moment, the light blips of Oneakka pressing the screens resumed, and Halling let out a large breath he had been holding.

Except nothing had changed. Ahead of them the path through subspace still cut towards the approaching battle and his inevitable fatal end.

He promised himself that he would face that end with his head held high, that he would fight until his last bitter breath, and earn the blazing death any Elite would wish for.

Except the torrent of real emotion and fear churned away inside, Sitayi' face burnt intensely into his mind's eye.

00000

So much for a day off.

Sam sighed into her hand as she settled her chin on her palm and her elbow on the arm of her chair.

She should have gone fishing with Carson.

Instead she was still in her office, her stomach missing its lunch, and her electronic in-tray overflowing. Most of the content could be ignored of course, could wait until tomorrow since the rest of the city were off duty, but the new Genii situation needed attention. Especially so before she sent her delayed reports to the IOA and Earth Defence.

She had hoped to have heard something more this morning, something to follow up on their simple initial confirmation of her reports on the new contract with the Alliance and the Elite. The IOA would hold an emergency meeting, but surely they would have completed that by now...

Surely all that was needed was a yes or no as regards to sticking with the Political Marriage.

Why did that take so long?

She was starting to think like Jack! The problem was that the IOA was rarely in agreement among themselves and everything took time. She would probably be lucky to hear back by the end of the week. That didn't help her stress levels of course.

It was days like these that made her want to go back to working missions through the Gate. She could just focus on each mission in turn, deal with what was in front of her, and not have to deal with the myriad of details necessary to be the commander of a base. Jack had used to "bitch" about these duties when he had been in charge of the SGC, still muttered about it to this day, but she really was starting to see what he meant.

Except, she did love her job, and that was part of the problem. All the ways she looked at the current situation seemed to result in her being blamed in some way. It was no secret to her that some of the IOA did not like her being in control of Atlantis, that she was too "Military" and others thought her too "scientific". The truth was you couldn't get anyone to like you all the time. Jack was of the mindset that you only knew you were doing a good job if you were pissing off as many political types as possible. Sam didn't quite see it the same way, but she understood his point.

She wondered how he would address this new situation with the Genii.

Torren had been polite and friendly in his transmission, but had clearly been careful in the words he chose over the radio connection as he passed on this new message from the Genii. She had promised to visit Torren in person on Athos soon, and that objective seemed even more important now. She would love to sit alone in a room with him and talk frankly, as she suspected he too would like to do. However, he had told her plenty with his carefully selected grammar.

A powerful faction within the Genii were worried about Kolya, saw him as a major threat, and wanted to work with Atlantis in finding and stopping the man.

On the face of it, it was perfect for Atlantis to have such assistance, but there were a lot of questions and unknowns. For all they knew, Kolya himself might be behind this message, trying to set them up to make some major political misstep that would result in who knew what. Or it could be that they really did have some allies of a sort, within the Genii halls of power, and that couldn't be ignored.

Sam had to wonder how many other worlds throughout the Alliance would now be thinking of how Atlantis could help them, how Atlantis might be a new naive party to play with or use.

"I don't see the problem," Colonel Sumner stated from his seat across from her.

She had been a little surprised at the man's immediate approval of the new contract, but then it was just what the military wanted. Through the contract they had exceptionally powerful new allies in the Elite, and the potential exchange of advanced weaponry and ship technology. The scientist in Sam was ready to jump gleefully at the prospect, but life wasn't simply about guns and new tech. Politics was a near constant burden to all leadership, and felt even more so for her now that she had to start considering hundreds of new cultures and worlds in the Alliance.

"The problem," Richard Woolsey replied from the seat next to the Colonel, "is that Torren doesn't think this 'offer' came from Cowen."

Richard was being his usual insightful and picky self. They were qualities that she had grown to appreciate in the man, but he still aggravated her from time to time. However, in his work with Torren he had been exceptional. His reports were detailed beyond belief, and she suspected that he had nothing by promotions ahead of him.

"How is that a bad thing?" Sumner asked Richard quite aggressively.

The two men did not get on at the best of times – not that Colonel Sumner got along with a lot of people. She had first worked with the Colonel back at the SGC, and his reputation then had been tough. From her first day as city Commander, she had sat down with the him and frankly made sure that he understood that she respected his military background and that she wanted to work with him not against him. He appeared to have respected that conversation and hadn't shown any overt signs of any professional jealousy that she had been promoted ahead of him as Commander of the city.

He was good at what he did, though occasionally she had to rein him in tightly. His answer to almost any situation was to blow it up or shout at it, sometimes both. That approach had some value at certain times, but he would not have been a good choice as City Commander.

In contrast, Richard was nervous, self-conscious and overly concerned about political details. There was little mutual ground that the two men shared other than looking out for Earth's best interests – even then they could disagree. It seemed that more of her job involved managing these two men and their disparate views.

"We know Cowen's corrupt," Sumner summarised simply. "If his enemies want to team up with us to find Kolya, then all the better."

"That is assuming these enemies of Cowen and Kolya are any better?" Richard pointed out. "It is not the policy of the IOA to be involved in any way with the internal politics of any world, especially now an Alliance one, and especially so if it could involve a coup."

"We don't know for sure this offer hasn't come from Cowen, and even if it hasn't, that the people involved plan to overthrow him," Sam clarified.

"But it is a high possibility," Sumner put in, actually agreeing with Richard on the thought. "They want Cowen out, but want us to take out Kolya for them."

"Either way," Richard interjected, "by involving ourselves we could put our new contract with the Alliance in jeopardy."

"You've reported yourself that Cowen has little support within the Alliance," Sumner replied without looking directly at Richard. "Kolya is a threat, he's proven that several times," Sumner growled. "To them and us."

Kolya's invasion of Atlantis had occurred before Sam had arrived here, but she was aware of how dangerous the situation had been. Kolya had expertly struck at the most vulnerable time for Atlantis, and if had not been for the valiant actions of a handful of senior staff, they would have lost the city. John had played a particularly decisive part of that rescue, as Sumner had been off world looking after the rest of the city's inhabitants who had been evacuated off world. It was clear to Sam that Sumner was still pissed at having been away when his city had been attacked. She could understand his thinking, and after Kolya's attempt at assassinating John – in Atlantis and in his own bed! – had been another bold faced and aggressive strike at Sumner and his people.

"But so far Cowen hasn't moved against us," Richard replied logically. "In fact, Torren says he appears to have accepted the Genii' loss of the Political Marriage without too much fuss."

"They still did pretty well out of it," Sam considered out loud. "They have increased trade with Athos and a deal with the Elite."

Richard nodded. "Exactly. We worried that they would turn against us, but it doesn't look that way. It could even be that this offer to help find Kolya _has_ come from Cowen."

"He wants us to clear up his mess," Sumner summarised the theory. "I don't have a problem with dealing with Kolya, and using Genii intell to do that, but I don't see any information coming our way yet."

Sam nodded at his point, though admittedly the offer had only come in a few hours ago via Torren. "It is possible that they are waiting for us to respond in some way, pass along our confirmation through Torren." She considered how such a relationship might work. "Torren has let us know that the Genii government is in trouble, that Cowen's control is tightening, and we know Kolya has been trying to make things worse for him. If we-"

A sudden distant rumble and subtle shake shook the office.

Sam didn't need to second guess what she had felt - years of experience told her instantly that something had exploded or collapsed, likely both. She was out of her seat and heading towards her office door within a split second, the glass of her door still shaking slightly in its frame as Sumner got to it first.

The Control Room was a rush of sound and activity as she followed Sumner across the bridge from her office. As she did, she glanced instantly to the Gate, confirming it was fine, it wasn't active, so the threat wasn't from there.

"Report!" Sumner had already shouted just as soon as they were through the office door, but Sam's radio earpiece was already relaying loud worried talk of an explosion and call for medical help. Among the voices she picked out Carson's confirming he was already heading out to the area of damage.

"We have reports of an explosion at the base of the tower," was the first official report to Sam as she strode towards the main consoles. "Near the gym," Lieutenant Fletcher added as she tapped on one computer screen. Sam swung in around behind the woman's shoulder, looking at the same screens as her, absorbing as much information as she could.

"An attack?" Sumner asked.

"Nothing on sensors," someone else answered instantly. "No ships, no abnormal readings of any kind."

"All emergency teams are on route," Chuck reported from the higher line of consoles behind Sam.

"Power systems?" Sam asked as she watched Fletcher work, pulling up different scans of the city and the Ancient monitoring systems that governed the city.

"Nothing is out of place, Ma'am," Fletcher replied. "We've had minor damage to local power conduits at the scene, but nothing implying anything overloaded."

"Structural damage?" Sam asked next, as beside her Sumner was barking orders for his security teams and structural engineers.

"Transporters are down throughout the Tower," another voice reported from Sam's right. Everyone's voices were higher pitched with agitation and adrenaline, but, as always in Atlantis, everyone was working efficiently and professionally.

"Initial reports coming in," Chuck called. "We have at least three dead, dozens more injured."

Sam clutched at the back of Fletcher's chair. "Understood," she replied. "Keep me updated." The urge to leave the Control Room was almost overwhelming. She wanted to be heading down to the area in question, to see it with her own eyes and help out, but her place was up here. She had to oversee the whole of the city, put all the different pieces together. Be the all-seeing eyes and central control that the city needed right now.

"...secure all corridors and stairwells in and out of the tower," Sumner was ordering over the radio. "I want everything locked up."

"Doctor Beckett reports his initial response teams are almost on scene," Chuck reported and Sam nodded, equally relieved and worried.

"We're on our way," Sumner announced over the radio as he strode past Sam with a nod. She nodded back, holding tighter to the back of Fletcher's chair to stop herself going with him. She trusted him to do his job. When it came to protecting the city, Sumner was damn good at what he did.

"I'm not reading any malfunction on any readings before or after the explosion," Chuck reported quickly.

Sam turned and made eye contact with him over his console. "Then it was likely an explosive device." He nodded his agreement before returning his attention to his computer. "So far the city's computer is not reading any major structure damage, but that's assuming that the sensors around the damaged area are working properly."

Or that the situation wasn't going to change. The explosion had been in the main tower – if even part of it collapsed...

Sam turned back towards Fletcher's computer, but paused as her gaze fell on Richard, who was stood a metre or so away from her. His face was pale and worried, and she had the sudden worrying thought...

Could Kolya be behind this?

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TBC


	43. Giant

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**Chapter 43 – Giant**

The hallway was thick with the stench of smoke, burnt flesh, and blood. Carson had made it here on foot with his team in record time, practically jumping down the stairs in threes in the rush to reach the scene as quickly as possible with the transporters down.

As it had turned out, a small number of his own staff had been enjoying some of their mandatory rest day sitting out on a nearby balcony in the sunshine, so they had been immediately on the scene. Therefore, when Carson had arrived, some measure of control had already begun, with the worse injured already identified for him and his equipped team. Even with his own people nearby, one of the benefits to working on a military base was that a large proportion of the city's population already had good first aid training and a reasonably calm head in a crisis.

However, a sense of chaos still reigned, as was always the way in such shocking and brutal situations. In some ways such heightened panicked events were almost commonplace to him now, and though still has harrowing, but he was able to keep calm and focus on what he could do.

From the wounds he had seen, the remains he had had to step over, and the small fires still burning in the blackened corridors, it was obvious what had happened. In his experience, only explosives could do what he was seeing, but he would leave the details up to Radek and his team. Carson's job was to finish up with his last major injury patient as he worked the last bandage in place to stabilise a long protruding piece of metal that jutted out of his patient's upper chest. The woman was conscious and lucky to be alive, but in obvious pain. The wound was very serious, but for the moment she was stable and ready for transport up to the OR level.

He gave his last orders to his team for her care, and military personnel stepped in to assist in lifting this latest victim onto a stretcher and get her up to the OR level as quickly as possible.

Carson watched carefully as she was settled on the stretcher, the first IV meds getting into her bloodstream now, reducing her pain, but she was clearly holding in the whimpers and cries she no doubt wanted to release.

As the stretcher was carried carefully but quickly away, Carson turned on the spot, pulling off his latest pair of disposal gloves and assessing the situation further.

All the major injuries were now on their way up to the Infirmary and OR, the mid range injuries were being dealt with down the corridor, first aid underway and triaging allowing his team to understand what was needed and by whom up in the Infirmary. Those with minor injuries, or emotional shock, had been led away to a more secure area one floor away to be treated by nurses and even some of the city's scientists who were trained first responders. All hands were on deck. It was usually an annoying fact that in Atlantis no one could truly be away from being on call, but at the same time it was useful in such situations as these to be able to have all his staff and more instantly to hand.

He took one more glance around, his eyes falling over the two covered bodies further down the hallway. They were being moved last, the living taking priority of care. Then there were the few remains left of the poor person who had been right near the centre of the blast. There was little left of them, and what pieces there were had already been collected up as evidence. Carson would no doubt be performing that tiny and unpleasant autopsy, but it would have to wait.

"Doc?" Colonel Sumner's voice carried loudly down the corridor.

Carson glanced back to see that his final patient was out of sight. He needed to follow to be up in the OR, but he could spare a few seconds for the Sumner. He hurried quickly towards the Colonel who was in discussion with Radek right in the epicentre of the explosion site.

"..so there is no danger of the tower collapsing," Radek was reporting as Carson reached them. "From what we have, we know there was an explosion-"

Sumner looked ruffled and angry. "I can see it was an explosion," he interrupted. "Injuries, Doc?" He demanded of Carson.

"I've got three dead on site, four severely injured on their way up to the OR now," Carson reported.

"Injuries?" Sumner demanded the clarification he had apparently actually wanted.

"One will probably lose an arm, one has severe burns, and the other two severe penetrating wounds," Carson reported.

"The deaths?" Sumner asked.

"The explosion did all it needed to," Carson replied, not wanting to get too graphic. He needed to stay focused.

"Which is the strange thing," Radek added. "Granted I haven't been on the scene long, but from what eye reports we have suggest that Dr Hewston simply exploded."

"Suicide bomber?" Sumner asked doubtfully and angrily at the same time.

"I can't believe that of Dr Hewston," Carson argued.

"I agree," Radek added. "There is something very odd about this. I have scanned all of this area with my equipment and there is not a single trace of explosive residue."

Carson agreed it was a strange thing, but right now he needed to focus on his patients. "Colonel, if you don't need me, I've got to get up to the OR."

"Yes, go, Doc," Sumner replied, his attention focused on the damaged wall in front of him and Radek.

Carson turned away sharply and hurried away as quickly as he could move around the scattered debris, Radek's people, and some structural engineers. The patients out the way, they could now do their formal and detailed jobs to ensure the tower wasn't about to fall down around everyone's ears.

"Keep me and Colonel Carter informed, Doc," Carson heard Sumner shout after him.

Carson didn't bother replying though, his mind was already focused on the ops ahead of him, prioritising, reassigning who could look after which patients.

He was given priority going up the stairs, and he took the steps two or three at a time. He was not overly fit, but at times like this he had all the energy he needed.

As he reached the OR level, he discovered that he had caught up with the stretcher carrying the poor woman he had just sent up.

As he ran his eyes over her wound and checked her vitals again he realised how fortunate it was that he hadn't gone fishing after all.

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They weren't Jumpers, but Elite Transport Craft, or 'shuttles' as John continued to call them in his head, handled like a dream. Once he had gotten the handling the six engines part down, looking at the right screens, and remembering where the main controls were without looking at the sticky notes, flying the shuttle was pretty damn fun.

Half an hour into the trip through the strange cocktail soup of the nebula, Inifee had given him the controls. There had been a few sharp jerking course corrections at first, but once John had gotten the feel of the ship, it had all started to make a lot more sense to him.

A collection of large passing asteroids had been a good testing zone for him, which Inifee had talked him through. Playing dodge round the slowly turning chunks of rock had been fun and John was pleased that when push came to shove, he could easily handle the shuttle.

Impressed with John's skills, Inifee had let him steer them the rest of the way with Inifee playing navigator. It was probably the safer option any way as the guy could actually read the data displayed on the scans ahead, whereas to John they didn't really make all that much sense. He could handle the simple radar and x-ray like displays, but the technical detail displayed was above him. Inifee didn't seem all that worried about them switching roles though, since John was handling the shuttle well. But, it had reiterated the point for John once again that he needed to learn the Alliance written language as soon as possible. Inifee had already offered to help him with the piloting technical side of the language when John next stayed on the Sythus, but until then John was going to have to learn by himself. Unless Teyla might help him.

He had to almost constantly resist the urge to look round over his shoulder to where she was sat in the back of the shuttle. Of course doing that was never wise when driving, unless it was a Jumper that could follow your thoughts not just your hands. He hoped Teyla was pleased that her new political husband was pulling his weight so far, and that Seifer was suitably annoyed.

Glancing down at the main navigation screen just below his eye line he shifted the shuttle's course a fraction to the right. There wasn't a hell of a lot to see out front, just the orangey pink thick haze of the nebula, but the shuttle seemed to be flying through it okay. Inifee had said something about filtering systems and told him not to worry about it, and John was okay with not worrying about something. Flying through a nebula was a nerve wracking piloting experience as even the sensors were limited in range and clarity in this pea soup, which meant that he had to be ready at any moment to alter course around something that only appeared as a slightly thicker blob among the other blobs in the pea soup on the screen. If there was a Wraith ship just ahead of them, they wouldn't know until they were practically on top of it; which made it a tense flying situation, but also nicely challenging.

"Further," Inifee uttered quietly.

John glanced at him. "Further right?" He asked.

Inifee nodded as he frowned down at his own screens. "Picking up something just off at 3600528.31."

"At what time is that?" John prompted him.

Inifee glanced up with a faint smile. "Between 10 and 11 using your new twelve numbered clock technique."

"Tried and tested technique," John corrected as he altered their course a little further. He had explained the principle to Inifee over an hour ago, and though the fellow flyboy had mocked him somewhat, he'd gotten the idea and approved it. "Hey, in a moment of crisis you're going to be glad to only have to count up to twelve," John reminded him.

"I have no doubt that-" Inifee started, but his voice cut away.

John glanced down at his screens, seeing the data spilling around the mixture of blobs on the sensors. "What is it?"

Inifee tapped away on and around one screen. "Getting a definite reading at...at position nine," he corrected.

"Nine o'clock," John repeated, peering out into the orange soup outside the worryingly thin looking window on his immediate left. He couldn't see anything but the swirling and drifting varying shades of orange and pink. "Nothing visual," John reported back.

Behind him, the silence from the others in the back section seemed to grow deeper, everyone listening in.

"It's 156.21 distance away," Inifee added, which meant nothing to John, but the guy's tone said 'close but not too close' to John. "It's passing by us," Inifee said quietly. "Position eight, now seven."

"What is it?" John asked, glancing back at his screens, unable to see anything useful other than what looked like a faintly thicker blur among the other blurs on the screen, the Alliance hieroglyphs around the mess.

"Possibly a Wraith scout ship," Inifee replied. "Far too small to be a cruiser. Our probe picked up regular runs of small ships through the nebula."

"You think it detected us?" John asked worriedly. The blur on his left hand screen was now well behind them and still moving away. Which had to be good.

"We only picked it up using the new infrared scanning frequency," Inifee replied. "Same as used by the probe."

"Your special infrared say anything about this up ahead?" John asked.

"Looks like denser particles," Inifee considered the screens. "I'm not picking up anything that says it's Wraith. We're almost at Giant so it might be broken up pieces of what used to be a small moon that orbited the planet."

"Great," John muttered as he made another small course correction, "asteroids."

"They are usually very slow moving so should not be a major concern," Inifee assured him.

"Sure," John breathed as he made another correction around an approaching thick blob on the screens. "Still, it's starting to get crowded."

"We should be within visual range of Giant any second now."

"You'd think a planet nicknamed Giant would be easier to spot," John grumbled as he fired extra thrust from another two engines to adjust down and around another patch of possible asteroids.

As the ship levelled out, through the front view a sudden flash of brown rock broke through the pink soup, tumbling towards the nose of the shuttle. John reacted instantly, tipping sideways and firing several engines at once to give him the instant manoeuvrability he needed. The move worked, though the shuttle jerked aggressively at the sudden course change.

"Sorry everyone," John called to the back of the shuttle, "Unexpected pedestrian."

"Good evasive action," Inifee added appreciatively.

John switched his gaze down and up, using the sensor screens and his own eyes to make sure no other asteroids were going to get in their way.

He could feel a layer of thin sweat inside his alien atmosphere suit, right across the middle of his back.

"There she is," Inifee uttered with reverence.

John looked up from the screens and had his first view of Giant slowly revealed through the thinning mists of the nebula.

"Okay, so maybe Giant is a good name," John whispered.

The planet was immense, and because of the thickness of the nebula, by the time they were able to see Giant, it was practically in their face. It filled the front view, completely. Angling his head, John couldn't see the top or the bottom of the massive planet and it wasn't because of the nebula. It was so massive that John swore he could already feel its gravity from here.

It was mainly a muddy brown colour, the atmosphere thick with marbled through clouds of oranges and yellows, and some mixed in were white with thin long lines of purple running through them. As he watched, just 'north' of the equator of the planet, there was a sudden flash of a darker colour dancing through the clouds, sheet lightening scattering in all directions. Considering the size of the planet, that was one hell of a storm.

"Storms, as expected," Inifee said without any concern in his voice.

"That's a damn big storm," John replied as he watched another flash of deep purple slice through the clouds, lighting them up in deep pink and rusty orange before bright flashes zigzagged away in several directions. The storm seemed to fill most of the top hemisphere, at least on the side of the planet facing them.

"The good news," Inifee reported, "is that the storm has not yet reached the target area."

"_Yet_?" John noted, keeping his eyes on the growing presence of Giant ahead of them, streaks of purple storm and flashing lightening dancing across the ceiling of clouds over the planet. At least out of the nebula he could use his own eyes to watch out for floating rocks and Wraith. Inifee had assured him that Giant kicked out such intense readings that most sensors were useless, and what did work would be filled with static. John could see that already on the sensor screens, lines of static cutting through the data, but for now it was still readable.

"From the data we already have on Giant's weather patterns," Inifee replied, "and the probe's updates, I estimate the storm, or at least the closest edge of it, is likely to arrive at the target area within the next three standard hours. Perhaps sooner."

John glanced at him across the small confines of the shuttle's cockpit. Inifee noticed the attention and shrugged apologetically. "The patterns were difficult to plot when this was a known and used base," Inifee explained. "Everything's gotten worse as Giant passes through this sector of the nebula, so that is the best guess. The storm may even change direction and not hit the target area at all."

"Yeah, sure," John replied sarcastically. "Because _that's _the kind of luck I usually have."

"Maybe we should not have brought you if you attract bad luck," Inifee joked.

"Maybe," John shrugged as he made another small correction, heading towards the flashing triangle that on one screen that indicated the direction of the target zone down on Giant's surface. "But then, I'm still alive, and I've been in some tricky situations over the years, so maybe I'll bring some good luck."

"Still no Wraith detected in local orbit," Inifee reported. "Perhaps it is not luck's affects on you, but the luck of those commonly around you that we should be concerned about," he added.

"They're all still alive too," John replied quickly. "Mostly," he added quieter and with no small amount of regret and grief.

"Transport two is signalling their arrival at our corner," Inifee reported more loudly for the benefit of those in the back, but since it was so quiet in the shuttle it was obvious that everyone was listening in anyway.

"Hmmm," Inifee murmured.

John glanced over his screens quickly, recognising the concerned tone. "What?"

"Honoured Elite," Inifee called towards the back of the shuttle again. "I have more detailed readings of the Wraith structures detected on the surface, at least in the areas outside of the storm zone. I'm reading high energy readings that correspond exactly to the tendril-like structures noted on the probe's scans. The readings suggest they are harvesting the geothermal power under Giant's surface."

"Damn them," Seifer swore abruptly from directly behind John's right shoulder. Fortunately, a lifetime of training stopped John from accidently flying them off in a random angle at the shock of the man's sudden arrival so close.

"Life sign numbers?" Seifer asked quickly.

Inifee's dark hands worked over some controls and one screen began populating with small dots. "No change to that detected by the probe," Inifee replied.

"That explains why they're still on Giant," a male voice from the team in the back added. "They're harvesting power."

"Perhaps for the Nest," Teyla added. Her voice was still from further back in the shuttle, but Seifer's presence continued to hover a little too close to John's right shoulder for his comfort, but he let it go. Especially because he could feel the scratch of the handle of a knife against his seat as Seifer reached forward between the piloting seats and tapped away on the controls with Inifee.

"Still not detecting any Wraith in orbit," the annoying Elite reported.

"The probe detected some orbital patrols and our calculations for arrival predicted they would be further around behind Giant. The massive storm will be affecting their systems as well as ours and reduce their detection fields," Inifee reminded everyone.

"Speaking about that unstable atmosphere," John muttered as he made another course correction, which brought the shuttle lower, starting to skim Giant's outer atmosphere as they rounded the massive planet. The storm filled one side of the view now, the dark lines and flashing lightening filling all of Giant currently in view.

"We are well insulated," Inifee said quietly for John's ears. "Stick to a usual approach, but we will need to drop in quickly over the target zone ." John nodded, as Inifee brought up the approach vector they had planned before leaving the Sythus. John glanced down, looking between it, his other screens, and the view outside.

"You want to take the controls?" He asked Inifee. He was happy he could take them in and perform the landing, maybe, but this was Inifee's baby.

"If you are happy to take us in, I will keep watch and provide weapons systems control," Inifee responded. "If we engage, though you know how to alter engine power systems for what you need, instruct me and I shall make the adjustments for you."

John nodded. "Okay."

"Transport One?" a voice crackled out into the air.

"Receiving, Transport Two," Seifer responded to the air. The Elite warrior was still squeezed between the two piloting seats, most likely watching John's every move. "We're detecting geothermal harvesting on Giant, which explains the network structure spread over much of the surface. They've established a power network and are most likely siphoning it off for the Nest. There are no alterations to predicted life sign numbers."

"I am not detecting anywhere Queen on the surface," Teyla's voice arrived from the back.

"I concur," Si' deep voice replied out of the still unseen speakers.

"Target zone now in sensor range," Inifee reported.

The storm no longer filled their view of Giant as John lowered the shuttle a little further into the outer atmosphere. The plotted route blazed in red on a screen before him, on which the formally distant triangle that indicated the target zone was fast growing larger.

"As we saw from the probe," Si' voice reported from the speakers, "their network structure runs close to the inlet, but not to it."

"Initial plan is effective then," Seifer decided. "We will approach as planned."

"Transport Two will hold high orbit and distract if required," Si responded from the other shuttle. "Silence break only on emergency frequency 004. To victory," Si added.

"Agreed," Seifer replied. "To victory."

Inifee tapped a control on the edge of John's vision, which presumably put them in radio silence, but John was too focused now on the approach.

"Take us in then," Seifer ordered from behind John's shoulder, which of course wasn't what John was already doing. Wasn't it pretty obvious from the flashing enlarging red triangle on the screen?

John switched his attention to the other screens, while Inifee calling out some figures about the atmosphere for the Elite. "Have you got a map showing the landscape for me?" John asked Inifee.

"Yes," Inifee tapped around the red triangle screen and it shifted to a new view with the actual landscape below the clouds sketched out lightly. Instantly John orientated himself to it and the red triangle flashing ahead.

"Thanks," John uttered to Inifee. "Entering atmosphere," he added for anyone interested as he began the proper descent, lowering the nose of the shuttle enough to head down towards the distant, but fast approaching target zone.

Seifer shifted next to John, but this time he was moving away, probably to fasten his safety belt.

"We need to go in hard and sharp, down low over the landscape, around and down," Inifee reiterated the plan as the shuttle began to shake around them.

John nodded vaguely, but he was in a zone of his own now. Feeling the shifts of the ship was a hell of a lot easier now that it was buzzing dramatically in response to the physics at war outside between the shuttle and the atmosphere, their speed and the friction of superheated air, Giant's own gravity, and a whole load of other fundamental forces of the universe, which he was reading through the vibrations through his body and particularly in his hands. Shifting his view between his two screens and his actual view outside, which was currently filled with orange and purple clouds, he drove the shuttle down into Giant's thick dirty atmosphere.

"Electrostatic charges detected across the hull," Inifee reported out loud as the shuttle began vibrating even harder. Hell, they wanted to go in hard and fast, then they were going to have to deal with some jostling.

"Good approach," Inifee added next. "Cross winds of increased velocity below us, the very edge of the storm perhaps, but we should have passed them by the time we reach that level."

The clouds abruptly began to part in John's view, and his kept his eyes out front for a beat longer as the rushing brown stretch of Giant's surface was revealed. He quickly switched his gaze to the map view and red triangle again, orientating the route with what he saw outside.

"Craggy ground," he muttered idly to Inifee.

"Craggy, and worrying flat," Inifee answered. "Makes it difficult to sneak in, which is why we had to approach this way."

John nodded as he lowered the shuttle further, pulling back slightly on speed. Instantly, he felt those cross winds, but they weren't too strong, but he could feel the difference. He could also feel that they were lower in the atmosphere, the harsher fight with friction dissipated, and the craggy orangey brown landscape stretching closer before them. He levelled out the shuttle, lowering still, re –angling as he glanced back to the map and its approach. He decided to go wider on the approach.

"I'm going to drop into the valley further to the left," he told Inifee.

"Understood," Inifee replied. "If you can keep her in that gully round all the way round there, we can sneak up and to the target zone." He indicated the different approach on the screen and John nodded his agreement. "I'll take over for the final landing, but you take us in."

John nodded again as he began his change in approach. "She likes to pull right, doesn't she," he muttered.

"Yes she does in atmosphere," Inifee replied with what sounded like another one of those grins of his. "The engineers think the left engines are fractionally stronger due to some unexpected output values. They're working on it, but a good pilot can easily compensate."

John took the compliment as he reached forward and reduced power on the left engines fractionally, pausing only briefly to check the sticky notes to make sure he had the right switches.

"You've got it," Inifee whispered as John hovered briefly over what he hoped was the right control to synch in the changes. Confident in the choice now, he flicked the switch and returned both hands to the controls. The pull to the right stabilised slightly, but he reduced the power to the middle port engine a little further.

"No Wraith activity detected," Inifee announced for everyone. "No network beneath us. Atmospheric readings are as confusing as expected, which hopefully has obscured our arrival."

The edge of the gully was ahead, and John re-angled the shuttle's nose, worrying a little at the speed of the approach, but they needed to keep moving as fast as possible away from the edge of the Wraith's local network draining Giant of its geothermal life.

He was almost certain he heard someone muttering worriedly in the back, but he couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying, he was too focused.

Looking quickly between all his screens, he chose his moment and tipped the shuttle's nose down abruptly, rushing them down towards the surface, and the gully came into view just at the last moment. Ploughing into the seemingly small space of the long narrow gully, he pulled up immediately and to the right, letting the natural pull of the ship and their momentum to sling them along inside the gully.

Someone swore in the back.

Smiling a little smugly, John reduced power now, following the gully's route ahead of them as if he were in a third-person shooter game. The walls of the gully were close on either side, but not worryingly so. At least not for him.

He was almost certain he could hear Inifee quietly chuckling to himself. "Still no Wraith activity detected," Inifee reported loudly and seriously though.

"They are not aware of us," Teyla's voice drifted to John's ears.

"Our readings are desperately full of static this low to the surface," Inifee added.

The red triangle was really big on John's screen now, flashing as an arrow now appeared.

And the end of the gully was fast approaching.

At the last possible moment that he could risk it, John pulled the nose up and out of the gully, lifting them up just enough to spy the level of the ground beyond and then lowered them down to graze across the top of an vast brown ruined town of old brick and stone buildings.

That person swore again.

"The road there," Inifee instructed, but this time pointing ahead of them.

"Got ya," John replied as he re-angled, bringing the shuttle down and over the edge of the tops the buildings down into the new version of his gully. The roadway stretched between tall, falling buildings, until the left side opened up to run along the edge of a large empty riverbed.

The screen's triangle was massive now, arrows showing the direction he needed to take to where they would land the shuttle. He didn't need the arrows though, because the course was obvious to him now. Ahead he could see where this road met another along the side of the dead river, forming a nice large patch of flat ground where the triangle was directing him. Nice and precise.

"Let me take over," Inifee ordered as he reached forward, taking his version of the controls. "Once I start to bring us in, prepare your suit and be ready to depart."

"Right," John replied as he heard sudden busy activity in the back of the shuttle. All this work to get down here and the party was just starting.

"Taking control in four, three, two, one," Inifee flicked a switch and instantly John's controls lost all power and responsiveness.

He let go of them, wishing his would wipe his hands on this brown and bronze suit, but the gloves made it useless. Instead, he reached down for his face mask. He frowned at the large expanse of glass that was going to be all that was between him and the thin alien atmosphere outside.

Inifee was reducing their speed as the target area rushed towards them. John glanced at the screens in front of him, none of them showing anything that suggested there was anything to worry about...yet.

There was more movement and activity behind him, so he looked round into the back to see that the rest of the team were stood up, holding onto railings on the ceiling to support them as they readied their weapons. They were all already wearing their masks.

John frowned down at his own mask, worrying again at the seal that would bond directly with his skin.

Inifee brought the shuttle to a sudden, but smooth stop, the red triangle filling the screen in front of John as he reached up and pulled the tight hood of his atmosphere suit up over his head. As he tugged the tight fabric over his hair and around his ears, he watched Inifee flicking switches and lowering the shuttle down into the intersection of abandoned roads.

The shuttled shuddered only faintly as it touched down onto Giant, and immediately John heard the hatch opening in the back.

"Turn it on at the back," Inifee reached behind John and twiddled something on the backpack and John felt air flowing up at him from the mask in his hand. "The radio earpiece is inside," he indicated it to John, "put it in your ear first before you pull on the mask."

John nodded and did as Inifee instructed, while the rest of the team were disembarking from the shuttle behind him. As soon as he settled the earpiece in his ear he could hear Seifer barking orders over it, ordering his people to secure the area, and one to remain in the shuttle with Inifee. Once the team were out and away, Inifee would take off and head back up into the lower atmosphere, hiding from the Wraith and perhaps keeping any watchful eyes away from the team.

John pulled the straps of the mask over his head and pressed the full glass mask to his face.

"I will trigger the seal," Inifee shouted at him through the glass. "You'll feel a tightening of your skin; that is normal."

John nodded, as cool air softly flowed inside the mask and he felt Inifee slide the lone catch on the underside of the mask. A sudden sucking feeling tightened painfully around the edges of the mask as it clearly sealed itself to his skin. A second later it eased through and he let out a breath, fighting a slight sense of panic that he wouldn't have another breath available, but he pushed away the instinctive fear. He breathed deeply of the mask's air, which brought with it some less than friendly memories of being on oxygen in the Infirmary.

He shifted his head and shoulders, testing the fit of the suit and mask, and it was surprisingly comfortable, though the skin of his face felt slightly stretched. "At least I'll get a facelift out of this little adventure," John muttered as he turned in his seat to get up.

"Ready?" Teyla's voice arrived into his earpiece and he looked round to see that she was stood outside the open hatch, waiting for him. He was probably holding everyone up.

John climbed up and out of the piloting seat, Inifee patting him encouragingly on the shoulder as he passed. John gave the pilot a thumbs up as he headed towards the open hatch. The remaining member of the team staying with Inifee, nodded to John as John reached the open hatchway. Teyla was stood down on the dusty road a metre away, a gun in one hand and a pad in the other.

John gripped onto the bar beside the hatchway and was desperately grateful that the tight suit stretched with him as he stepped down and onto the road behind Teyla. She glanced round as he reached her side, her face lit inside her glass mask by a bar of light above her eyebrows.

Together they moved quickly away from the shuttle, and he looked back to watch as Inifee powered up the engines and lifted the shuttle up off the ground. John watched the fast ascent, the hatchway still closing as the shuttle turned and abruptly powered up and away.

John watched the shuttle gracefully speed away, and he was suddenly presented with his first ground level view of Giant.

There was something inherently alien about it, something strange that he couldn't put his finger on as he turned, taking in the dark brown craggy ground around the flattened road. Dark rusty red lines ran through the ground like veins through skin, and there were a few long thin cracks cutting through the ground that spoke of seismic activity. Brown dust seemed to coat everything, and was being blown constantly across the intersection at John's feet.

Along the road ahead of him he could see the crumbling buildings he had seen from above. They were taller than he had expected, but most of them were missing their roofs and in most cases their upper walls as well. Built out of the same brown and red stone and dust as that around John, the buildings looked rather like sand castles crumbling down.

Along the road between their dying remains, broken and scattered pieces of the buildings littered the place, along with what looked like long metal support beams and clumps of soil and brick walls. It was only then that John realised what was missing from Giant – there were no trees. No vegetation that he could see anywhere.

He turned on the spot, looking along the near edge of the empty riverbed, searching for where some greenery, any plant life, might be growing, but he couldn't see anything.

He frowned at that small, but oddly worrying detail.

There was another worrying detail too. The wind was a very real presence against his body, pushing intermittently at him. It wasn't strong enough to push him over, but it had that strange, rough, unpredictable quality of a real bad storm on its way. He looked up at the clouds above the crumbling abandoned town, to see the dark oranges were moving at a slightly worrying twisting speed.

He turned on the spot again, seeking out Teyla, only to find her stood a few feet away and, beyond her, the rest of the team was heading away.

"Keep up, Sheppard!" Seifer shouted loudly in John's right ear.

Right, yes, he needed to get his act in gear. He jogged forward after them, heading towards Teyla, remembering that she was on duty as the team's six, so she was probably again waiting for him to keep up. He was about to pass her as he followed the others, an encouraging smile ready, but he forgot it as soon as he saw what she had been looking at.

He gapped at the view, but kept his feet moving, Teyla falling into step at his side as they ran along the side of the riverbed. The river had been far wider than he had realised until seeing it from right on top of the embankment along which he and Teyla ran following the rest of the team. It had been a good sized river, but almost all the water had gone, except for the tiniest of trickling streams down the very middle of the wide expanse. The water couldn't have dried up too long ago though, because the former bottom of the river looked thick with reddish brown mud.

However, it wasn't the lack of water that worried him about the view; it was the myriad of metal, bricks, roofing, and what looked like carts that were buried into the muddy bed in a seemingly random scattered pattern.

"Tornados," John muttered.

Teyla's mask nodded beside him as she lifted one long bronze sleeved arm, pointing ahead of them. "The inlet is off to the right there and our target is up on the other side of the river. We can only hope that with the water gone and their geothermal production that the Wraith have not found the Mother Device."

"Was the river full when you were last here?" John asked, his voice and increased breathing uncomfortably loud inside his mask.

"Yes," she replied, her own breathing raised as they hurried after the rest of the team. "The Wraith have either drained it, or redirected the river further up."

John didn't nod his understanding, because up ahead was their way across the wide emptied river. A very high and basic looking bridge stretched across to the far side, but as John approached this side of it, he could already see that the high winds had taken a good few chunks out of it. That it was still standing was a testimony to somebody's engineering and construction skills. If it could just hold together for the rest of this mission...

Seifer was the first to head across it, moving with a low profile and gun ready at a worryingly speedy pace that John guessed he was going to have to match. The rest of the team followed suit, moving in single file as fast as they dared, and keeping their bodies low.

And then it was John's turn. He took a steadying breath, aware that the others were all making it across safely enough and that Teyla would be following along behind him.

He needed to put on a strong and brave face for Atlantis.

Telling himself that was all that was important, he stepped out onto the alien bridge, the winds pushing at his back.

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TBC


	44. The Mother Device

**Note** – Thank you for the reviews to the last chapters! I would like to make a quick shout out to Guest 64 and Sheyladebaloo, who have both written some lovely reviews throughout this fic, but to whom I'm unable to reply through the site. Thank you x

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**Chapter 44 – The Mother Device  
**

The metal planks under John's brown Captain America style boots felt gratefully secure as John stepped onto the bridge. The only problem was that now he was on the bridge he could see that there were plenty of missing planks, as well as random littered bits of brick and what looked worryingly like part of a bed hanging off one side of the bridge's simple planked top.

He took one step at a time, keeping low, and keeping his eyes fixed on the planks and the gaps between them as he hurried forward as fast as he felt comfortable. Well, maybe 'comfortable' wasn't the right word, but he had to keep moving. After all the Wraith could turn up any second, or the swirling clouds above could decide to maybe have another go at toppling over this bridge.

As back on the embankment, Giant's brownish red dust coated everything up here, clearly showing the boot prints of the others of the team who had already gotten across. For the most part, John stuck to where they had stepped, watching each plank carefully as each wobbled a little too freely under his boots.

The wind pushed harder at his side as he crested the middle and highest point of the bridge, and as he stepped over one particularly large gap he was treated to a view straight down to the muddy mess and scattered tornado crap embedded in the riverbed far below him.

He didn't have problems with heights – you couldn't become a pilot if you did – but if he lost his footing, fell that distance, maybe onto one of the embedded metal planks...

He moved on quickly, the dust gusting across the bridge around him as he headed towards the promise of the other side of the river.

He wanted to look back over his should to check Teyla was following carefully, that she was okay, but he didn't dare lose his concentration.

The wind suddenly gusted harder against his right side and he pulled up sharp, turning and bracing his back and shoulder into the push.

"Air pressure is picking up," a voice reported into his right ear. Yeah, like John couldn't work that out for himself.

"Storm front is still some distance away," another voice replied among the team. "At least as much as we can tell through this static."

The wind's aggressive shoving dropped and John moved on quicker, there being fewer gaps along this further end of the bridge. Solid ground was just ahead, and the rest of the team were waiting, backs pressed to a tall brick wall directly opposite.

With a few more hurried steps John's boots met solid ground. He wanted to kneel down and do the Robin Hood kissing the ground replay, but instead just stayed professional and hurried quickly towards the others.

As he scurried across the dusty ground, he looked back over his shoulder to check on Teyla's progress across the bridge, only to find she was only a few paces behind him

He reached the wall and leant one shoulder against it, letting it support his weight, and Teyla arrived at his side a second later.

Chatter went back and forward between the team, talk of energy readings, nothing sounded too worrying yet to John. He kept watch on the surrounding area, falling into his training a little more deeply. He reached down and pulled out one of the Alliance guns and checked it over.

"Let's go," Seifer announced a second later, and abruptly the line of the team moved forward.

John followed, keeping his profile low again, despite the tall height of the wall. As they followed the wall and the open road space this side of the river, he noticed there wasn't as much litter across the ground here. Instead, it was all piled up against the foot of the tall wall. For a second he had the funny imagine of the Wraith coming round and sweeping up each day, but instead it was simply obvious that the wind favoured this direction. And remembering the bottom of the riverbed, John recalled that everything had been embedded at a similar angle, clearly describing the direction of the tornados here.

He looked up at the ominous clouds overhead and yep, sure enough they were turning slowly in that same direction.

The team picked up their pace, the embankment, road, and the wall following a wide slow turn to the left. The tall wall was not as intact here, though still higher than anything on the other side of the river, but it was obviously falling apart in places. Through one such hole, John could see into a building on the other side, picking out two floors, the metal girders exposed and the brick walls collapsing.

It occurred to him that there were a lot of places to hide here, both for his team and for attacking Wraith. The structures looked highly unstable so they would have to be careful if it did become necessary to hide inside the crumbling buildings.

The wind was getting stronger again, or maybe it was just the road's new angle, but he was needing to lean into the wind to keep up his pace. There was more twister litter here too, twisted pieces of metal and dusty mess spiralling around the road. Overhead, a large long piece of a metal jutted out of the wall at a strange angle, buried there as if it were a giant needle stabbed through randomly.

At the front of the team, Seifer suddenly stopped and pressed his back to the wall, and everyone instantly copied him, shoulders and backs hitting the wall. Keeping up easily now, John shoved his left shoulder against the brown wall behind them and shifted his attention around the area, scanning for anything worrying.

Nothing was moving but the air and the ever present dust.

Teyla arrived at his right elbow, stood slightly away from the wall, her back partly to him as she watched their six. He watched her mask turn and look off towards Seifer, no doubt assessing body language through that silent communication you had with team mates.

"The closest point of the Wraith structure overlooks part of the inlet," Seifer's voice announced, breaking the radio silence since the bridge, and John could see the male Elite had his scanning pad lifted up to the front of his glass mask. "Emmagan?"

"They are not yet aware of us," Teyla replied instantly. She shifted to his right and John switched his attention back to her. She angled her head slightly as if listening to something. "I would estimate there to be about eight of them in close vicinity, most likely in or near that structure."

He didn't know she could be that precise!

"There are more in the distance," she added, "but not too greater numbers in the area."

"I'm picking up clear readings of power conduits nearby, off to the left," one of the team added from their own pad. "Leading to the Wraith structure. It seems clear they are siphoning off geothermal power."

"Hopefully the Mother Device will still have power," someone else worried.

"It will," Seifer replied with confidence that John considered a little optimistic. If the Elite had left here over a year ago and the Wraith had been tinkering with the local energy supplies, could that end this mission before it began?

For a crazy moment, John kind of wished McKay was here to pester with such questions.

At the head of the team, Seifer moved forward slowly and peered around the end of a large break in the wall. John leaned his head out a little further to see that actually it might be where another road met the river embankment. In a low crouch, Seifer carefully peered around the crumbling end of the wall and looked off to the far left, down the as yet unseen new road.

"The Wraith structure is just visible over the ridge," Seifer reported over the slightly crackly radio link. "There are cables or pipelines running up to the structure."

"We should move quickly," Teyla suggested. "The chances of the Transport Crafts being detected increases with each moment."

"Agreed," Seifer replied, his mask dipping as he consulted his pad once more and then he swiftly headed across the open space ahead. The others followed, keeping low, all their masks turning to the left, scouting out what Seifer had seen.

His turn, John scurried forward, keeping a low profile and very grateful for the brown suit now as he moved into the open brown dust covered space.

It was indeed a new road, along which were further eroding buildings, though not as damaged as those on the other side of the river. Above the town there was a high rise, and sitting above it John could make out the stark contrasting dark organic lines of the Wraith structure. The top of it was just visible, though the dark pipelines Seifer had mentioned were far more obvious. They looked like they were coming out of the ground itself, up and over the rise to the Wraith base.

He couldn't see any actual Wraith. He glanced round at Teyla on his six, feeling immensely grateful that she was here for her gift as much as her Elite skills. How great was it to have a literal Wraith sensor with you on these missions! He'd always appreciated her gift, had seen her stop a Wraith Queen in her tracks with it, but they hadn't really talked about that side of her. In fact, he kind of had the feeling that it was a sensitive subject for her. He wondered why, because clearly it was an amazing superpower, and he wondered how the hell she was even able to do it.

He made it to the far side of the road and back behind the protection of another wall, following Seifer and the others along behind it once more.

John kept his gaze moving, watching for anything worrying, the actions long inbred in him, and the full glass mask of the atmospheric suit certainly making it easier than the confined view out of a hazmat or spacesuit. A brief turn of his head would bring Teyla into his peripheral vision, enabling him to watch her for any indication that the situation was going to change. She was their first line of defence against the Wraith.

The team paused against the wall once again, and Seifer moved away alone, crossing the open road space back towards the river's edge. John watched the Elite moving over and around littered bricks and a couple of metal planks towards a waist-height metal railing at the edge of the embankment. John frowned as Seifer stopped at the railing and then began to disappear down out of view, obviously moving down an unseen staircase that ran down the inside edge of the embankment. As Seifer disappeared out of view, the others double-timed it across the road after him, all eyes watchful at this vulnerable point.

John moved across the road quickly, watching as many directions as he could, the wind buffeting against his front as he reached the metal railing. This afforded him another view of the wide littered riverbed, with its thick wide muddy channel and the tiny stream remaining at its middle.

His turn to head down the new staircase, he switched his weapon to his left hand to get a good hold of the metal railing attached to the narrow metal steps. As he headed down them he could feel the vibrations of the others' boots up through his feet.

He glanced up and back to see that Teyla was following. They weren't leaving anyone up top then? Maybe it would be too much of a risk to draw attention to where the rest of the team were, or maybe Inifee was watching over them from above somewhere. John looked up to the overhanging turning orangey clouds again, which meant that when the team member in front of him pulled up fast John almost ploughed into their back.

They had reached a platform set down on the inside of the embankment, jutting out over the empty muddy riverbed. It had probably been a launching point for boats, but now just looked like a waiting unused shelf. Two long metal strips with symbols on them stretched along the wall beside the platform, probably to measure how high the water had reached. The obvious old water stains on them showed just how high this river used to be.

The platform was mostly free of debris, except for a large metal door that leant against the river wall. Seifer headed towards it and began shifting its heavy weight aside, which revealed an open doorframe, which presumably the door used to fit into. The door was warped and burnt black one side – weapons fire.

As Seifer revealed the space that the door had once hidden, one team member dipped and peered inside, their pad glowing in front of their mask.

"They have been in here," came back a report, "but no readings."

"They are not here," Teyla confirmed. "And are still unaware of us."

John gripped his gun tightly, back in his right hand now, and looked out across the river to keep watch as the team arm wrestled the door further out of the way.

Which was when he finally noticed that the river widened dramatically up ahead. It opened up to a massive flat space that stretched away as far as he could see, the land on which the town stood sitting high above it.

"Did that used to be an ocean?" John asked shocked.

"Yes," Teyla was the one to answer him.

He looked round to her stood half a metre away to his right. "What the hell happened to this planet?"

"It is very unstable," Teyla summarised, her voice sounding confined by her mask over the radio. "It has most likely been caused by seismic activity."

"And they're tapping the geothermal power," John added.

She nodded in return as she looked out to the former ocean, the dark dangerous orange clouds above reflecting against her full glass mask.

"Giant was inhabited long ago," she added. "We added a few extra structures and the bridges, but whoever they were, they are long gone."

"All is clear in here," Seifer reported. John looked round at the damaged doorway to see that the others were all inside the room set inside the embankment. He moved towards the dark doorway.

He took a breath as he stepped through the warped doorframe, realising he was trying to smell the air to tell if it was dank in here. Instead all he got was the excessively clean smell of the air he was breathing.

It was very dark inside the room, the only light provided by the bars of lights inside everyone's masks and from a few glowing pads in their hands. The lights inside his own mask hadn't been obvious to him outside, but now felt bright as he blinked at the change in light level. Blinking repeatedly, his eyes adjusting, he finally got a good view of the small room inside.

There was nothing inside except two large Alliance style consoles, the contents of which had been gutted – presumably by the Wraith. There was no power to anything, which the team discussed over the radio, confirming that everything had been turned off when Giant had been abandoned.

As he passed by one console, John ran his gloved hand over the top of it. Brown Giant dust coated his fingertips. The door had blocked most of the way in here, so for this much to build up on the console told of a lot of time. "They didn't gut any of this recently," he commented.

"They most likely checked over the entire area when they obtained sole control of the planet," one of the team answered him.

"So at least they're unlikely to come looking around any time soon," John replied, glad for the sudden bit of conversation with the team.

"Hopefully," Seifer's voice was the one to reply.

John turned to watch the male Elite running his hands along a side wall until he stopped at one seam.

"There are no signs of weapons fire here," Seifer reported over the radio link, his voice slightly breathless as he got a grip on something in the seam and abruptly the seam became the edge of a hidden door.

The new door swung open, dust scattered through the shafts of light glowing out from all the watching masks. Behind the door there was only darkness, into which Seifer stepped, taking his mask's light with him.

It was a closet.

Seifer kicked out a metal box and an actual broom.

If the Wraith had found this closet then all they would have found were cleaning supplies – good disguise.

Seifer scratched a cross through the light dust on the small floor on the inside of the closet and stepped back out. The Elite held up his gun and pointed it down at the cross.

John quickly turned his back and got his eyes half closed before Seifer fired.

He couldn't hear the full blast through the mask's air tight seal, but John felt it, and saw the bright flash of light through his eyelids. The flash gone, he carefully opened his eyes to the inside of the room and a view of Teyla stood near the warped doorway, looking out.

Was she picking up something?

Trusting she would report it if she did, he looked back towards Seifer to see him and half the team were punching their boots down into what was now a large dark hole in the floor of the closet. John moved closer, the mask lights revealing pieces of concrete falling down into gloom far below the floor. The top rung of a ladder was just about visible on the near side. Great, why was it always an underground bunker?

Seifer crouched down at the edge of the hole, but looked up to the rest of the team. "Yanna, stay up here," he ordered to one of the team and then reached down into the darkness below for the top rung and swiftly disappeared down into the gloom.

Yanna stepped away, leaving the remaining two team members to follow Seifer down into the darkness. As he waited for his turn, John looked back round to find that Teyla was approaching. She had a slight frown to her face lit brightly inside the mask.

"Everything okay?" John asked.

"Emmagan?" Seifer demanded over the radio, somehow having understood John was talking to her.

"I am aware of Si," she reported in response. "He is concerned about something, but not alarmed."

"About the Wraith?" John worried.

"They are still unaware of us," she reported back, her mask lifting slightly, so that he could see more of her beautiful face.

"Good," Seifer replied over the radio. "There is no evidence the Wraith have been down here in the chambers."

John looked back to the hole down to those 'chambers', the others already down it – it was his turn.

He carefully crouched down beside the hole inside the closet and reached down for that top rung. As the lights of his mask ghosted down over it, he could fortunately see more rungs below, and further down the shaft he could see the moving light of the last team member at the bottom of the ladder.

He set about climbing down carefully, and almost immediately he became aware of the temperature increasing around him. Something shifted in his backpack and suddenly the air he was breathing became slightly cooler. Okay, that was a handy feature, but a little worrying too. Geothermal meant underground lakes of lava didn't it?

The bottom of the ladder approached, and John turned his head, shining the light from his mask into the tunnel that ran away from him. The others were moving down it, their lights moving across rough walls.

His boots on solid ground again, John looked up, spilling light up towards Teyla's quick descent towards him. He stepped back, but kept his head upturned to light the rungs for her. He could see that she, or Yanna, had closed the closet door overlooking the shaft. The soldier in him itched at such a vulnerable position as being possibly trapped down a hole on an alien world he didn't know.

Teyla made it down the ladder in the half the time it had taken him, and once she was near the bottom, he turned away, giving her space and to take in the tunnel for himself.

It looked roughly chiselled out of the living rock, like something had just chewed its way through and no attempt had been made to smooth off the walls. As he followed the others, he found there were several open doorways cut off the tunnel. The two team members ahead of him were checking each room in turn, making sure no Wraith were lurking inside. However, a few quick glimpses into the rooms himself, confirmed to John that there was nothing inside at all. If the Wraith had found their way down here there was nothing to find.

Up ahead, Seifer, still at the head of the group, had stopped. His mask lights were shining around the floor and then swept up the wall to his left. John watched as the Elite ran his gloved hands over the rough surface of the tunnel wall. There was a loud grunt over the radio as Seifer put his weight behind something and John watched as part of the tunnel's wall began to swing back. A large door, literally a whole part of the entire wall, swung inwards, Seifer following it into the gloom.

"Room is clear," Seifer announced a second later as John stepped up behind the remaining two team members and watched their mask lights hit more rock walls inside.

John followed them inside, the room overly warm even with this Elite powered cooling system. It was a large room, again cut right out of the rock itself, but most of the room was dominated by a huge metal table. A few chairs were set around it at odd angles, and a few abandoned pads and maps were coated in dust on top.

Seifer brushed the maps and pads off the table without interest, clattering them to the hard floor. He then held his own pad over the metal table and pressed a few buttons. A brief series of tones played out in the dull dark room and abruptly the top of the table broke open. The surface parted to reveal red lights flickering to life inside. Parts of the table folded in on itself and others lifted, presenting a complicated looking console.

John moved closer as small screens booted up, displaying lines and lines of code. The two team members began immediately tapping away on controls, while Seifer slid his pad into a large slot. This brought another screen to life. John guessed the new EM field data was being downloaded.

"The readings are all good," one of the crew reported as she pressed numerous buttons on the console. "Mother Device is pulling power, and a good amount," she added with obvious relief.

"The EM frequency programme is loading," Seifer reported further.

John frowned at the table. He had kind of gone with the plan until now, but now he was stood at a table buried under a planet's surface. He had heard numerous lectures about subspace from Rodney, but it was hard right now to believe that this table was going to reach a whole other system.

"Is this going to work?" John had to ask.

"It will work," Seifer replied sternly as his screen stopped displaying lines of data and then flashed blue twice. Seifer tapped a control and red lights began shining out from the underside of the table and down its base to the rocky floor.

A sudden vibration began to shake up through John's boots.

Earthquake? Volcano?

"The main device is underground," Teyla's voice arrived in his ear, all calm. He looked round to see she was stood back near the large rock door, which allowed her a clear view down the tunnel outside. John glanced at the table console, realising he was no help here at all, so moved back towards her.

"Is the frequency going to make it all the way to the Nest System?" He asked her, keeping his voice low, despite knowing it would still be broadcast over the radio to everyone.

"It will be broadcast via subspace," Teyla replied, her face coming into view. "Distance does not matter."

"But does this thing have enough power to do that?" John asked doubtfully. From the little he knew about these things he had kind of got the impression that it took a hell of a lot of power to do what they were planning. At least that was the tiny bit of information he had retained from Rodney's many rambling complaints about working with subspace.

"There is more than enough power on this planet," Teyla replied to him, her head turning slightly towards him. "It will draw what it needs from the geothermal power directly beneath us."

"By geothermal," John noted, "you mean lava."

"The planet is under a great deal of seismic activity, and that will assist us."

John glanced back at the table. He didn't like the sound of tapping lakes of lava when you were stood directly above them.

The lights on the underside of the table began to flash bright and fast, and the vibration to the floor suddenly hit a new uncomfortable frequency, rattling up John's legs.

Seifer stepped back from the console. "Programme is uploaded and ready to transmit."

"All readings climbing," one of the team reported. "Power levels constant and rising faster than anticipated."

"A problem?" John asked, eyeing the glowing table worriedly.

"The device will automatically begin broadcasting once the levels are the right level," Teyla explained.

"And we're going to be okay down here?" John checked worriedly, turning back to her, his mask's lights casting over her.

"We should leave as soon as the transmission begins," she confirmed.

"Almost at full capacity," came another report, the vibration now shaking John's jaw like a dentist's drill.

"This is going to work," Seifer grinned in the red flashing lights of the table.

"Won't the Wraith be picking up this power surge?" John asked.

"Yes," Teyla replied. "They already are," she added, her voice sounding more distant.

John looked round to see her attention was directed up at the ceiling, as if she could see through it.

"Si is more concerned," she reported more loudly. "Something is happening above us."

"They might have found one or both of the transports," Seifer guessed.

"The Wraith might be heading this way," John suggested worriedly, looking back at the table.

"Full power has been reached," the female crew member reported. "Device is charging, program is running, transmission will commence in three seconds."

The vibration was getting worse, rock dust peppering down from the ceiling through the console's pulsing lights. John brushed a glove over his mask, brushing away the dust, and watched as tiny pieces of rock began crumbling down from the walls.

"Maybe we should get out of here," he suggested.

"Transmission is-" one of the team began to report, but didn't need to finish the sentence because the noise of the device made it through John's mask and suit. He cowered at the burst of noise, the lights of the console dimming for a second and the vibration abruptly stopped.

"Transmission complete," the crew woman reported as she leant back in over the console checking something, wiping dust from the small screen. "The repeat cycle is initiated."

The vibration began again, but building quicker this time.

"All out," Seifer ordered, and suddenly everyone was running towards John.

"Okay, so now we're leaving," John uttered as he turned and followed Teyla out of the device's room and down the tunnel outside back towards the waiting ladder.

He could feel the vibrations even out in the tunnel. It was a rumbling sensation that that was travelling up from the soles of his feet, up through his legs to his middle. It shouted to him in a very primitive way that he should run a lot faster.

The ladder just ahead, the tunnel burst with noise and red light, the vibration abruptly pausing again, making John almost lose his footing on the dusty floor surface. Another transmission had been sent already apparently, but within a second the red lights began glowing down the tunnel again and the vibration started working its destructive magic on the rock around John again.

Teyla had made it to the ladder and was a few rungs up above him already, but she abruptly stopped and he heard her gasp through the radio.

"What?" John shouted over the vibrating noise and the crumbling rock around them.

"I think it is working," she reported over the radio. "I can feel them...across Giant. They are angry," she reported.

"Let's get out of here then," Seifer ordered, which seemed to kick Teyla back into action heading up the ladder.

"Do they know we're here?" John shouted up towards her as he clambered up the ladder as fast, but as carefully as possible. The vibration of too many people on one ladder added to the device's crazy shaking, made him worry, but the most important thing was to get up and out of here as quickly as possible. They needed to get off Giant now as quickly as possible, because out there in the Nest System hopefully the fight had just started.

The vibration at a crescendo point again, another burst of light and noise flooded down the tunnel, but this time John was ready for the visual and auditory assault.

"They are looking for us," Teyla shouted over the radio as she reached the top of the ladder and, being first up, she pushed open the closet door above, spilling a little extra light down over the ladder.

John followed quickly, almost at the top, almost up into the closet as he saw Teyla disappear into the room up top.

At which point there was a sudden loud violent roaring noise that had nothing to do with the Mother Device. It crashed in over him and, over the radio, John heard Teyla cry out in shock and pain.

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TBC


	45. The Nest

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**Chapter 45 – The Nest**

Sam paced behind her people as she watched the reports appear on the screens and simultaneously listened to all the radio chatter.

"Dr Zalenka's getting fuzzy results," Sumner reported loudly over the radio, the noise of the cleanup operation behind him was obvious and sadly familiar to Sam.

"Fuzzy is not perhaps how best to describe-" Radek started to protest.

"What have you got?" Sam interrupted, cutting through the usual defensiveness Sumner could endear among the scientists in the city.

"I am not getting a single reading that makes sense," Radek replied over the link. "There is no sign of anything explosive in these readings or in the samples we're taking off the walls themselves."

"How do you have a bomb without an explosive?" Sumner challenged Radek forcefully and doubtfully at the other end of the radio link. It was a good question.

"I do not know," Radek replied almost aggressively, his back rising quickly during the stressful situation down there, coupled with his not understanding his readings and having to deal with the Colonel's attitude.

"Keep at it, Radek," Sam encouraged him instead. "Let me know as soon as you find something that helps explain what caused the explosion. For the time being," she added as she paused behind one computer screen and leant one hand on the console to watch the data flowing. "There is no evidence that there has been any serious structural damage. We are rerouting power away from the area just in case the explosion was related to-"

"Dr McKay to Colonel Carter," Rodney interrupted into the radio talk. "You're going to want to see this."

"Where are you, Rodney?" Sam asked.

"In my lab," he answered. "I think I have an explanation."

"I'm on my way," Sam replied immediately, already moving away from her station. "Chuck, keep me apprised with anything new," she ordered as she hurried down the steps away from the Command Centre.

She should perhaps stay at her station, but she'd been there long enough to learn and do all she could for now. The right people were doing the right jobs, and right now it sounded like Rodney had an answer. She knew from experience that seeing his data with her own eyes as he made his discoveries cut through a hell of a lot of mess. Rodney had a way, even in the midst of a major crisis, to want to add his own extended flare to highlight how amazing he felt he had been. She had no time for that, and so seeing his data herself meant she could "cut through the crap", as Jack would say. Besides, just taking Rodney at his word could be dangerous, he didn't always think things through, and if there was another potential bomb in her city then she needed to find out what it was and where it was as quickly as possible.

She made it to Rodney's lab at almost breakneck speed, her ear full of more chatter between Sumner and his people. She put in a few words as needed, but let the Colonel do what he was good at – looking after the city.

The only person Sam hadn't heard over the radio for awhile was Carson, but as he was working in the OR, his head nurse had instead supplied Sam with a quick satisfactory update. There were three people currently in surgery and several more prepped ready. Carson was, as expected for Chief Surgeon, performing the most difficult operations requiring both his experience and his calm head.

Like everyone in Atlantis, Carson was doing his job perfectly, and it appeared that even Rodney was on form to have a potential explanation already. She dropped out of her fast jog as she reached the open entrance to his lab and marched in quickly to find him pacing in front of two computers set up on a lab table.

"What have you got, Rodney?" Sam asked as she headed towards him, noticing that he had a larger screen set up on a trolley to his left. Her eyes moved over the display, immediately identifying a device with complex components.

"I'm digesting this still as I go," he replied as he turned towards her. "But, I think I know what happened."

Sam frowned at the display on the larger screen now she was closer. "Is this the device from the incident last night?"

"Yes," Rodney confirmed with a haunted look. "Shouldn't we wait for Sumner?" He asked glancing away to the empty doorway behind Sam.

"We can update him if and when he gets here," Sam pushed him back on track. "What have you got?"

"Okay," Rodney worried on his lip as he turned towards the large screen and the displayed device. "As you know, last night Dr Hewston and her partner Dr Watson were cataloguing that latest Ancient lab we uncovered." Sam nodded her head impatiently.

"As you also know," Rodney continued, "they inadvertently activated this machine and it began to emit a very odd type of radiation."

"I remember," Sam nodded as she took in more details on the display. She didn't see anything that could help her jump ahead of Rodney's explanation as yet.

"What have you got?" Sumner demanded as he abruptly strode in behind them, a little out of breath and smelling faintly of smoke.

"I was just telling the Colonel-" Rodney began again.

"Dr Hewston and her partner Dr Watson accidently activated this unknown Ancient device last night," Sam explained quickly and far more efficiently than Rodney was capable. "It emitted an odd, as yet unidentified radiation-"

"I've identified it now," Rodney put in quickly.

"Why wasn't I told about this radiation?" Sumner demanded.

"It was only emitted for a few seconds and they were able to turn it off right away," Rodney explained. "Dr Beckett examined them last night and gave them a clean bill of health, so with no immediate apparent danger we decided to figure out what the device was whenever we had time." He paused painfully. "That was a mistake."

"What did it do to them?" Sumner insisted.

"The science of it is _spectacularly_ complicated," Rodney began, "but it appears to be a weapon."

Sumner strode towards the screen, frowning at the display of the device beside Sam. "What kind of weapon?"

"Well," Rodney paused, seemingly uncomfortable for some reason, "we think it was created to battle the Wraith, but it was abandoned pretty early on-"

"What does it do?" Sumner turned on Rodney.

Rodney recoiled slightly from him. "It creates explosive tumours."

Sam frowned, trying to wrap her brain around the bizarre concept. "Explosive tumours? How?"

"It doesn't matter," Sumner interrupted. "If you mean that this is what happened to Dr Hewston, then is it going to happen to Dr Watson too?"

"Most likely," Rodney replied anxiously. "We need to find him and-"

Sumner turned away as he tapped his radio awake. "Emergency broadcast to all members of staff, I want to know the location of Dr Watson and I want to know now."

"We need to find him and isolate him. Have ordinance standing by," Sam ordered.

"I'll find him," Sumner stated as he turned and ran out of the lab, his abrupt decisiveness very useful at such times.

"Tell me about these tumours, Rodney," Sam asked turning back to the computers on the lab table.

"It appears that the radiation-"

"We got him," Sumner stated suddenly over her radio link. "He's on the slab about to go under Beckett's knife as we speak.

Relief was quickly replaced with fear as Sam tapped her radio alive. "Chuck, this is Carter, put me on with Dr Beckett directly now," she ordered quickly.

"Yes, Ma'am," Chuck returned. "He's on the line now," he added after a brief conversation with a nurse and a pause as the radio piece was transferred to Carson as he worked.

"Carson?" Sam asked as she studied Rodney's two computer screens which displayed detailed analysis of the strange radiation. She tried to absorb as much of what she was seeing as quickly as possible, hoping that there was an answer somewhere in the science. At least it seemed clear that Kolya wasn't involved in any of this. That was something at least.

"Here, Colonel, but I'm a little busy right now," the good doctor said into Sam's ear.

"Carson, this is going to sound crazy, but one of your patients, Dr Watson, has been infected with an explosive tumour that could detonate at any moment," she informed him as calmly as her training allowed. "I need you to evacuate the OR room and the section. Colonel Sumner has an ordinance disposal team already en route to assist."

"An explosive tumour?" Carson asked disbelievingly.

"Just get out of there, Carson," Rodney added into the conversation.

"Dr Watson is too fragile to move right now," Carson replied.

"He doesn't need to move," Rodney explained. "_You_ _do_."

There was a second long pause on the radio before Carson started sounding out orders to his people. "Alright, everyone, listen up," he called to his people. "I need everyone to clear the floor right now; I'm enacting a Protocol Seven for this entire level. Move it people!"

Sam could hear the bustle of movement, wishing she could also hear Sumner's transmissions which would be bringing help to Carson and his people as quickly as possible.

She focused back on the computer screen, but suddenly became aware of Carson arguing with someone on the other end of the radio that he hadn't disconnected. He and a nurse were discussing continuing the surgery on Dr Watson and she was going to remain to assist him.

"Carson?" Sam called into the radio. "What are you doing?"

Rodney turned sharply away towards the other computer. "What-?" He muttered as he brought up the main connection to the city's computer. "Carson, what are you doing?" He exclaimed.

"What is he doing?" Sam asked moving closer, but the display told her enough. Carson was sealing off the entire OR level, the doors shutting behind the evacuating people.

"Carson," she called into her radio, "if you seal that level no one can get in to help you."

"Get the scanner into place," Carson was saying to the nurse staying with him. "We've got a tumour to remove, I'm sorry, Colonel Carter, but I'm not abandoning this man."

"Carson, you can't seriously be considering operating on this guy!" Rodney argued angrily.

"I am," Carson replied. "Exactly how much time do we think I have?" He asked.

Sam and Rodney both glanced towards the large screen showing the deadly device that had started this terrible situation.

"There is no way to know for sure," Rodney replied first. "Hewston was infected at the same time as Watson and her tumour has already exploded."

"No time to waste then," Carson replied with frustrating calmness in his voice.

Sam reached across in front of Rodney where he had the display of Carson's enacted protocol. As Chief Medical Officer, Carson has his own high level authorisation with his own code, so Sam knew it would take time to break it, but she started up the programme to try. She didn't have a lot of faith that it would work in time though, and Rodney was certainly having no success convincing Carson to stop his operation.

"...the man is already dead!" Rodney was now shouting over the radio, right up close to pure panic.

"Like hell he is," Carson snapped back.

"Doctor Beckett," Sam interrupted as she stood up from the computer. "How long do you think it will take you to remove the tumour?"

"Looking at the scan we have of it, it's behind a lobe of his lungs. If I go in quick it could be all of ten minutes."

"Ten minutes!" Rodney spluttered.

"Carson," Sam continued, "I understand why you're doing this, and I respect it, but we have to consider the safety of the city and our people."

"The sooner I get this thing out of him, the sooner it can be disposed of," Carson replied logically and calmly, though his breathing had the fast controlled edge of someone working quickly.

"I want you to let in the ordinance disposal team at least," she suggested. "They can set up in an adjoining room and be ready for the removal."

"I don't have time to free up the level right now," Carson replied with a faint grunt and she thought she heard the sound of rib bones cracking.

"This is crazy," Rodney exclaimed as he paced in front of the computer that was working to break Carson's authorisation.

"Have your ordinance team standing by," Carson added. "I will open access to the floor once I have extracted the tumour. Beckett out."

The radio cut out abruptly.

Sam turned to Rodney, frustrated and feeling her own edge of panic that she saw reflected full scale across Rodney's flushed face.

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The view directly ahead of the Sythus was displayed large and clear on the largest screen in front of Oneakka. The smaller screens on either side showed all the other angles outside the ship, showing each flank and aft. Stood front and centre up on Central Station, he had a full view of the entire area around the Sythus, and from here he could give navigation, weapons, and strategic orders. He'd stood here many times watching these screens, making snap decisions and each time so far the battles had ended in victory. However, this battle would be unlike those before it.

The view aft and to both sides of the Sythus showed the wide spread, but dense line of the Military Fleet. As soon as the large part of the Fleet had dropped out of hyperspace, heading towards the Nest System, the Wraith had pulled instantly back, even from Outer Lantana. As a result, there were even more Fleet ships now available for this battle. The ships were spread along the frontline facing into the Nest, hanging in space...waiting.

The front view out of the Sythus showed their target ahead in sharp and precise detail.

For all the scans they had been able to capture of the Nest System to date, this was the first time they had actually gotten this close. The detailed scans now possible were insightful, informative, and ready to be used to the Fleet's advantage.

Spread completely around the Nest System, like a spotty shell surrounding it, the Wraith space mines hung in the vacuum of space. They were currently a thin, but deadly wall sitting between the Fleet and the Wraith trapped inside. With the extra number of Fleet ships now available, they had been able to extend further along that line, but the Fleet couldn't cover the entire Nest System. That meant that plenty of Wraith would be able to escape out the far side of the system, but a huge percentage would stay and fight. Today presented a victory that would change the face of this war, and would haunt even the Wraith that would manage to escape today.

Oneakka had been of the mind to involve Atlantis in this battle, but the rest had not thought it advisable yet. The marriage contract was new and the Fleet Commanders might have opposed such a move at the horizon of battle. Oneakka disagreed – Atlantis could have held a line further back in non-Alliance space and taken out some of the escaping Wraith, or at least tracked their routes away. That intell would have been very useful. But, it had not been agreed upon today, but Oneakka would push for it for the next battle. It was about time the Elite saw Atlantis' ships in battle – to really see what they could do.

But, today was not about Atlantis, today was about this glorious imminent battle. Today was about cleaning out this deadly potential nest, and Oneakka was going to lead the assault. The Sythus was the point of the spear that would pierce into the Nest System, the hole in the mines widening until all the Fleet ships could engage the enemy.

Stood at the point of the spear, Oneakka studied the view of the Nest in depth, scanning the line of Wraith waiting beyond the wall of their protective mines.

Like the Fleet, the Wraith had formed a line just beyond the explosive zone of the mines, ready, but holding back to avoid any damage to themselves. Three Hives formed the main opposing line, with five large cruisers forming another line behind them. It was typical Wraith thinking, believing that their heavier armed and intimidating Hives were best at the front. They hoped to dominate with the Hives, then the Cruisers and fighters would then sweep in and pick at the remains. That was what the Wraith thought. Instead, in Oneakka's mind, they'd simply put their biggest targets up front and centre to be attacked nice and early. Stupid Wraith.

Except they hadn't been all that stupid with their time in the Nest System. Earlier scans of the system had shown there were at least two space stations inside the Nest, one of which Oneakka could actually see on the screen. Behind the Hives, the Cruisers, and the first large planet on the outer edge of the Nest, there sat a large space station. They were new constructions for the Wraith really, something that they might have developed from the Alliance. This particular station was big, far larger than the scans had been able to detect, and it was clearly set in prime position to view all of the system's planets, moons, and this side of the mines. It suggested quite clearly that it was the focal centre of command in the Nest System; and most likely neutral combined territory between the Queens, who were all living in such close proximity in the system.

That station needed to be taken out decisively and quickly. It would be Oneakka's priority target. He glanced aside to a waist high display that provided him with the more detailed scans of the station than his eyes could provide him. It gave best estimates of the thickness of the station's hull, the power readings that suggested its main power source was low and central, and it displayed a massive number of Wraith lifesigns inside. If the station was Wraith neutral territory and central control, then there would be drones and warriors from each Hive and group in there. Destroying the station would not only be visible to all the rest of the Wraith inside the system, but would symbolically, and perhaps literally, break apart that unity of the Nest Queens.

But for now, both sides simply watched each other through the wall of mines.

Waiting.

Oneakka imagined the Wraith thought the Fleet were crazy to turn up like this, to imagine they would take on an entire solar system of Wraith. They had a surprise coming.

As long as everything went to plan on Giant.

He glanced at the time display up in the corner of the main screen in front of him, the numbers small in comparison to the images. By their best estimation, if the teams on Giant were alive and had made it to the Mother Device, then the frequency would be sent out any time soon.

Or it had already been sent and the devices concealed and long dormant across the Nest had failed or had been previously discovered. In which case, how long would the Fleet remain here?

Oneakka wasn't going back without some sort of fight, even if it was only to take out part of the wall of mines and deal with that central space station. He had no intention of losing the Sythus, but that station would be destroyed today if he had any control, which he did.

Movement somewhere behind him drew his attention briefly away from the front screens. The atmosphere of Central Station was efficient but tense, as everyone waited for the news they all wanted to hear and the order to attack. Everyone was quiet, with the exception of required conversation among the crew, but even then they were quiet whispered words.

Looking back down Central Station, past the two pilots sat behind him, the security and technician crews at their stations, and Halling studying the tactical display table, Oneakka saw that Tyoosi had returned. Lieutenant Ford was in silent tow behind him, the young man's face anxious but focused. Tyoosi had performed a complete check of the ship, checking directly and personally with each department and compartment.

Oneakka wondered if he had ensured Seeal was shut carefully away. Whether she would stay with Madesh as they worked on the databases was anyone's guess, but Oneakka was not concerned. She had agreed to behave, despite making a fuss about it.

"All stations and levels are battle ready," Tyoosi reported as he came to a stop on the opposite side of the display table to Halling, though his attention was on Oneakka.

Oneakka nodded, but shifted his attention back onto Ford. The young Lieutenant nodded respectfully and then noticed the large view of the wall of mines and the Wraith beyond them. Oneakka watched the shock and fear pass over the man's face. It was probably the most space hardware the young man had ever seen, but at least he clearly understood the firepower involved when he saw it.

Ford, probably realising how shocked he looked, quickly switched his gaze back to Oneakka with a faint smile that was clearly designed to look casual, and which looked rather Sheppard like. Amused, Oneakka looked away back to his proper focus out the front of the Sythus.

"Any change in status of the Wraith?" Tyoosi asked Halling.

"Another Cruiser joined their second line quarter a standard hour ago, but otherwise no," Halling answered him.

"They will simply wait," Tyoosi concluded.

Oneakka agreed with the assessment, but didn't offer the unnecessary agreement out loud. He watched the Hives, Cruisers, and that distant station that would fall this day.

"Honoured Elite," a crewman reported, "the final relay from the Giant probe has arrived." Oneakka angled his head to better hear the report, but kept his eyes forward. "It is on its outward bound trajectory, now out of the nebula and is back in Lantana space. No indications of the Wraith having approached it within scanning range or of having detected it at all."

Pleased, Oneakka smiled up at the big screens. The thick soup of the nebula had done its job in concealing the probe that had been the scout for the mission to Giant, and its job was now complete. One concern had been that the Wraith would discover the probe and might anticipate an attack on Giant, or an infiltration through the nebula. The Elite had considered-

"We are detecting massive energy readings inside the Nest," a voice abruptly announced.

"The EM field?" Oneakka demanded, his heart jumping with anticipation.

"Massive explosions on two, three moons, spreading," the man reported, clearly the data appearing faster than he could report it.

"Reading explosions across the largest planet," a female voice added.

A small tiny flash in the big screen snapped Oneakka's attention back to the screens. A tiny pinpoint of orange was growing across the equator of the largest Nest planet in view. The small lights grew, a chain reaction occurring on the Wraith covered surface, the explosions multiplying and massive enough to be seen not only from space but from this distance.

"Further detonations...we have readings on all target, repeat all target zones," another female voice concluded.

"Wraith ships in orbit of the planets in scanning view have lost all power. Some are falling from orbit," Halling reported from behind.

Enough of the reporting and no action. It was finally time.

"Emit the EM field," Oneakka ordered loud and clear.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," a voice replied, but Oneakka kept his gaze forward, watching the mines hanging ahead.

He could tell instantly when the field hit the mines. Tiny faint lights that had been glowing through the fibrosis Wraith material darkened, and one mine immediately began drifting now it was without its own stabilising thrusters.

The problem with the mines had been that they were designed to lock on the sources of attacking weaponry, but that wouldn't be a problem here. All the Fleet had to do was wait for the far too small distances between the mines to do their work.

More mines were failing, the formally complex tight wall directly ahead was now a drifting, deadly mess that was moments away from destroying itself.

Oneakka could see that the Hive directly ahead beyond the wall of mines had not been affected by the EM field, and was now releasing fighters into the vacuum. They knew what was about to happen.

Two mines met, their delicate internal explosives, designed to be especially sensitive to stop any Alliance fighters sneaking into the Nest between the mines, now triggered on collision with each other.

The first explosion was a blinding flash of white light, which was instantly followed by further detonations of the other mines caught in the blast. The series of explosions were violent and created a chain reaction out along the wall of mines in all directions, and would soon clear a path big enough to allow in the rest of the waiting fleet.

For now though, there was an open space ahead of the Sythus, albeit that it was still in the throes of dying flames and scattering spinning pieces of mine debris flying in all directions.

"Ahead, full," Oneakka ordered.

The Sythus jumped forward, rushing ahead, the scattering debris filling the screen, broken pieces of Wraith tech momentarily obscuring the camera's view forward, but within seconds the view was once again clear, and was now showing the rushing swarm of approaching Wraith fighters and the turning approaching point of the largest Hive.

"Firing sequence Attack Prime," Oneakka ordered. Instantly a barrage of anti-fighter firepower blasted forward, filling the area of space ahead with flashing red energy and tiny mines, forming a massive sudden wall of fire and explosives into the front of the attacking swarm.

The Sythus however took the sharpest of angles that its perfectly designed hull could take, turning down and under the assault, pieces of fighters peppering the upper hull.

The deck under Oneakka's boots shuddered at the explosive percussions of almost a hundred or so exploding fighters hammered close by, but the Sythus quickly powered forward and under them, on towards the Hive ahead.

Blasts of Wraith weapons filled the view around the massive approaching Hive.

"Evasive offensive primary," Oneakka ordered to the pilots behind him. "Emit the EM field at it again."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," one pilot responded.

The Hive was firing rapidly and seemingly with some panic now, the shots easily avoidable by the expertise of the pilots and the counter weapons teams, who were firing at the approaching attacks. The Hive now filling the view ahead, the Sythus spun up and round, skimming the front of the Hive to skate along the massive ship's right side. Unable to fire their weapons on the Sythus at such close range, Oneakka saw more fighters launch ahead. Weapons fire blazed forward, burning up the small ships as they barely made vacuum.

"The EM field is not longer effective," Halling reported the dissatisfying news, but the weapon had done what it had been designed to do. Now it was time to focus on more well known weapons.

Oneakka switched his attention between all the screens, watching the multiple engagements going on behind the Sythus, but trusting Halling to be relaying with the rest of the Fleet. Oneakka had his work ahead of him.

The Sythus shuddered again, the front view flashing with bright light as a Wraith fighter attempted to ram into the ship. Fire and tiny pieces of debris flared over the screens. Oneakka listened to the littering of reports behind him. No hull damage, no breaches, and the vacuum outside soon took care of any fires that might be burning out there.

The Sythus in turn was blasting weapons fire into the Hive's flank, hard and fast and at such close proximity that the screens behind were flaring with the light of small explosions. Oneakka switched his attention to his waist high side screen where the scans of the Hive relayed more intell.

The Elite and their crew knew all the soft spots on a Hive. Each were targeted with practiced and clever angles of attack, the pilots sweeping across the landscape of the Hive's hull towards one particular sweet spot of destruction. Oneakka watched as the target area approached and watched his people hammer the strongest firepower into it. Quickly over the target zone, the Sythus kept firing backwards until light flared and obliterated the aft screen's view again.

"Hive engine has been hit. Detonation is imminent," a voice reported quickly. The hull was still filling most of the view ahead – they were too close.

"Take us away and towards that central space station," Oneakka ordered as he looked back down to his small display. Closer to the target station now, the scans were providing even more intell, and elsewhere in the ship, teams were analysing it all thoroughly. It was clear to him that the station had powered up weapons.

The problem was that there was still the line of the cruisers to deal with first, blocking the way to the station.

Blasts of weapons fire skimmed the left side of the screen ahead and Oneakka glanced back up.

"Damage report?" He asked.

A violent shudder though was the Hive exploding aft of the Sythus, the extra momentarily push obvious and testing the ship's stabilisers for a moment.

"First Hive destroyed," a voice declared. "Second Hive engaging with the Ballista is taking extreme fight. Reading internal explosions on second Hive."

"We have minimal damage to outer hull," another voice reported. "Though we are detecting-"

Another flash of light filled the screen.

"Second Hive has been destroyed."

Oneakka nodded. "Get us to that station."

Ahead three Cruisers were turning towards the Sythus, the three ships aiming their combined attack on the Alliance lead ship, and all of them would now be resistant to the EM Field.

"Keep trying the EM field. Evasive Attack as needed," Oneakka ordered as he tapped a view controls on his small side screen, looking at the constantly updating scans on the station ahead. The technicians had already located a potential vulnerable spot close to where the station's main power readings were registering. Just above it, the station's structure narrowed – serious attack in that area could punch through and break the power flow and possibly detonate the internal power generators. Oneakka ran several quick attack vectors, glancing up as he did to watch the exchange of fire between the three Cruisers and the Sythus, and the supporting ships behind.

The deck shuddered hard under Oneakka again.

"We are taking direct hits from all three Cruisers," a voice reported.

This was the most dangerous moment. The Sythus had speed and manoeuvrability that few other ships had, but until they were closer that skill was not useful enough. The two flanking ships were firing forward, splitting the Cruiser's focus, but fighters had been released, their tiny dark sparkling hulls catching the light of weapons fire as they poured out to either side of their Cruisers.

"I'm detecting some strange readings on our left hull," one voice shouted louder over the others reporting.

Oneakka snapped his head round. "What readings?"

"Where we were skimmed by weapons fire," the female technician only a metre behind the pilots reported.

"No hull damage detected," Tyoosi added where he stood frowning by the tactical display, Ford at his elbow.

"Hull grabber?" Oneakka asked. The Wraith used them sometimes to latch onto a ship and drill in through the hull to force entry, but they were usually deployed directly out of a small vessel.

"No vessel attached," Tyoosi quickly replied.

"There's strange building energy readings," the woman insisted though. Tyoosi strode the metre or so between his position and her station.

"Cruisers on full assault," another report through in. Oneakka faced forward again.

The ship shook under the blasts, the pilots weaving and darting path unable to avoid everything, despite the Sythus' speed.

"All attacking divisions of the Fleet are now within the Nest System, all in engagement," one report flowed over the others. "Third Hive has been destroyed. Five cruisers are damaged or destroyed."

"These readings can't be right," Tyoosi muttered loudly.

"What is it?" Oneakka demanded while keeping his eyes forward. The Cruisers were now yards away, but the Sythus pilots kept driving right towards them, now almost frightening close. However, being this close would mean that the other Cruisers had to stop firing or risk damaging each other.

Well, usually they did.

"Impacts to central Cruiser, right Cruiser continuing to fire," a voice announced.

The pilots kept powering forward though, right towards the surface of the pointed front of the middle Cruiser, the hull filling the view. Energy damage scattered across its hull, obviously Wraith fire, and small fires flared briefly in the vacuum.

"Central Cruiser has switched its fire to the right Cruiser."

Oneakka smiled as the hull rushed towards them and at the last second the pilots twisted the Sythus, once again turning their belly to practically graze the Wraith ship's uneven hull.

Even Oneakka winced at how close it had been, but the side of the Cruiser now filled the view.

"Fire on main targets," Oneakka ordered.

The crew were used to this pattern of attack, one of the Elite's favourites and one that rarely failed.

"Honoured Elite, these strange readings on the hull are growing," Tyoosi abruptly called out. "They are reading similar to the robot from the water pipes!"

Oneakka snapped his head round as the Sythus' weapons fire lit up the Cruiser as it blasted past. "What?"

"Reading growing power readings and-"

"Losing power in that sector," the female technician added suddenly. "Power system disruptions and-."

Several screens flickered around Oneakka.

"Attack on computer system in progress," another voice shouted loudly.

"Block it!" Oneakka ordered.

"Central Cruiser main engine is in breach," another report added.

"Pull us away," Oneakka ordered as he turned his attention back to the front, the screens flickered around him. "Block that Wraith shitting robot!"

"This attack is far more sophisticated," a voice added.

Oneakka jabbed a flickering control for direct internal communication to the room he wanted. "Research Lab. Seeal," he shouted into the com connection. "Block the assault on the computer system."

"I'm already doing it," her voice shouted back through the link. "You've got a full system-wide hack going on."

"Readings suggest a robot is growing on the hull," Tyoosi reported. "I think it's using the grazing weapons fire to grow like the one in the pipes used the heat."

"You've got at least two sources of attack here," Seeal shouted through the radio. "Both using weak programs, but they're shifting their approach as fast as we can keep up with it."

Damn it, there was more than one robot?

"We think its two more robots sitting on the outer hull," Oneakka told her their guess. "Maybe dropped onto our hull or they've been there all this time. Help block their attack on the computer!" Oneakka ordered her.

"I am! Stop talking to me!" She shouted back.

Oneakka jabbed closed the connection with a split second grin as he turned to Tyoosi.

"Get those things off my hull," Oneakka ordered.

There was a pattering of conversation as to how to achieve that aim, but Oneakka was now focusing back on the battle ahead. The Cruiser immediately behind them was ablaze with fire, breaking apart, the other Cruisers trying to pull away from impacting with its potential debris, but the other Fleet ships were firing on them.

The ship shuddered as a second Cruiser's engine breached behind them, the aft view flaring with light.

"Third Cruiser has lost power and is drifting," a pleased voice announced. "Other Cruisers are on intercept course, but the Fleet is engaging."

"Take us on extreme vector to that station," Oneakka ordered.

"Ballista reports indications that a large part of the Wraith fleet have broken away to the far end of the system," Halling announced. The screens had stopped flickering. Oneakka hoped that meant that Seeal was doing her work.

"Status of the computer attack?" Oneakka asked.

"Attack has been blocked, countermeasures are in place and are being strengthened," a voice replied instantly. Oneakka knew who would be the one driving those extra electronic defences.

Oneakka nodded, pleased with that tiny victory at least, but it wasn't good enough yet. "Get those robots off the hull, fire down our own flank if we have to."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Tyoosi shouted back.

"Take us in to that Station," Oneakka ordered next, bracing his boots against the shuddering deck beneath him.

The space station was fast approaching. Pinpoints of light scattering around it were fighters heading out to intercept the Sythus, presumably launched from the Station itself. Other Cruisers were inbound through the system, attempting to protect the space station among all the other battles raging in the system, but by Oneakka's quick calculations, they wouldn't get there in time.

"The Gamber and Erlen are still in tight formation with us," someone stated, but the extra firepower blasting forward made their presence obvious. The attacking Wraith fighters were outmatched, but were hoping their weight of numbers would cause enough damage.

"Power readings are increasing again on the hull," Tyoosi abruptly added. "They're definitely tapping into the power of the weapons fire as well as our own power systems through the hull."

"Get them-" Oneakka started.

"We have a hull breach lateral lower left flank," a voice shouted.

Oneakka snapped his head back round.

"They're cutting into the hull!"

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TBC


	46. Full Scale Attack

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**Chapter 46 – Full Scale Attack**

"Teyla!" John roared as he scaled up the last rungs up towards the unseen floor of the closet above, aware of voices shouting in his ear, calling for information.

The instant he reached up into the closet the wind hit him, shoving at him and almost pushing him from the metal rungs of the ladder. He fought against the assault, gripping hard onto the top rung with one hand and holding his other in front of his mask. The red brown dust of Giant filled the air, swirling around his view, peppering his mask and obscuring everything.

"The storm has hit!" a voice finally registered clear enough in John's ear, and John realised what had happened.

"The whole side of the room has gone!" He shouted over the vibrations of the Mother Device below and the wind loud enough against his mask to hide even his own loud laboured breathing. "Emmagan is down!"

He could see her lying off to the right though, beyond the closet door. She was lying where bricks, planks, and part of a console had been thrown against the back wall of the room.

Yanna, the one left up here, staggered into view again across the room. "...reading Wraith lifesigns incoming," John heard her report.

"How many?" Seifer shouted back, his voice winded. Probably while he was climbing the ladder.

John didn't care right now though. "Teyla?" He shouted towards Teyla's terrifyingly still form, knowing the radio would carry his voice to her even as he worked across the windy space to reach her.

"Teyla?" What looked disturbingly like two of the metal planks from the bridge were lying partly over her and he scrambled to lift them off her while keeping himself upright against the assaulting wind.

There was something wrong with the way she was lying.

He was aware of the voices in his ear, the talk of Wraith, talk of the storm, and aware of someone moving behind him, but he simply focused on digging Teyla out from the rumble.

As he pulled the last plank off her, he realised what was wrong.

Her head was lying at an unnatural angle from her body.

Real fear and panic clogged his throat for a split second.

Had she broken her neck?

Was she even still alive, and if she was, how badly injured was she?

He had seen enough battle injuries to know what a neck injury could do, even if it didn't kill you outright.

Near panic, he crawled through the dust to her shoulder, sliding his hand up along her arm, trying to take in as quickly as possible if she had any other injuries.

And then she moved, her shoulder shifting under his gloved hand.

"Teyla?" He called to her as his lights shone down over her head, and he realised that it wasn't her head that was at a wrong angle – her mask was off.

He reached down hurriedly, getting a shaky grip on the dislodged glass mask and reaching out with his other hand to cup the back of her head. Gently lifting and turning her head he worked to press the mask back against her face, sending fresh air over her face. She might still have a neck wound, but she needed oxygen.

How long had she been without air? How dangerous was Giant's atmosphere?

He couldn't remember exactly, but he was almost certain they had said the air was too thin, not toxic. He hoped.

A hand touched against his shoulder, surprising him as he worked, but he was suddenly gratefully aware of the rest of the team behind him.

"Her mask has come off," John told them.

Teyla shifted in John's hands as she breathed in the air from the mask, but with his hands full, John couldn't trigger the seal in place. However, the other person at his side was crouching down to help.

"The seal was broken," Seifer's voice replied, and John realised it was the Elite helping him. Seifer got his glove under the mask and John saw him griping the slide that initiated the skin seal.

"The air's just thin, right?" John asked worried. "Not toxic."

"Not toxic," Seifer confirmed. "Emmagan, can you hear us?"

Seifer got the slide control moving and John felt the mask seal tightly to her face, and he heard her gasping loudly over the reconnected radio.

He slid his hand back onto her shoulder, his other holding him up in the debris and dust as he listened to her loud breathing over the radio.

Other injuries.

He turned on his knees, his first aid training kicking in, and he gently ran his hands over her upper arm, her shoulder and down her back. "No signs of any obvious injuries," he informed Seifer.

"The storm is approaching fast, Honoured Elite," a voice shouted worriedly. "Wraith lifesigns are close by."

"They are...looking for us," Teyla suddenly put into the conversation, her breathing panting around her words.

John had just run his hands down the back of her legs checking for damage and now quickly returned to her side, Seifer's lights shining down over her mask. She looked pale still, but better.

"Are you injured?" Seifer demanded roughly, but his hand on the back of her head seemed very affectionate in contrast to his tone. A burst of annoyed jealousy rose up in John, but he squashed it down as he added his lights over Teyla's face.

But, she was already moving to get up.

"I am fine," she responded. "Something impacted my side, hit up under one side of my mask."

Seifer pulled back to give her room to sit up, but John wasn't going to just take her word for it. He knew what _I'm fine_ really meant in Teyla's world. It meant she didn't want to bother others. So, he got his hands around her arm and her upper back, helping her to sit up. Surprisingly, she seemed to welcome the help, grasping hold of his bronzed covered forearm to help her.

"No head injury?" Seifer asked hurriedly, his attention turning away towards the now open side of the room.

"I am fine," Teyla replied.

"Then we need to move now," Seifer stated and moved up and away.

Teyla nodded, but John still wasn't convinced, and the second Seifer began moving away, John got in in front of Teyla, getting a proper direct look into her eyes.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked her, running his eyes over her face inside the mask.

She nodded instantly. "Yes, but we need to move, the Wraith are approaching."

She was moving to get up, slipping slightly on the littered floor, the wind pattering against one side of their masks. There was a spider web of fractures through one corner of her mask though.

"What about this?" John asked as he tapped the corner of her mask, whilst simultaneously helping her upright.

She still looked a little disorientated to John's eye, but that was normal enough, especially if she had been breathing low oxygen for a few seconds. He'd been through that himself before.

"The mask will hold," she assured him. She still had a hold of his arm though, but her grip felt tight, which made John feel a better.

"You'll say if it starts losing integrity, right?" He asked as they both began following Seifer.

"Yes," she replied, but he saw her shaking her head, bemused at his fussing.

That show of some humour reassured him more than anything else. She was moving okay, no signs of sprains or breaks – she'd been lucky.

Finally willing to let go of her as they moved away from the closet and towards where the others had all now exited the open-sided room, they moved around the last remains of the console and back out into the storm.

The others were already up the metal staircase outside, and John moved so that Teyla would go up first. As he waited for her to climb it, her steps reassuringly steady and moving faster with each step, he glanced out towards the empty riverbed and froze.

Just off above them, the dark orangey clouds now had a darker purple tinge to them. As he got a grip of the metal railing alongside the stairs, he saw a streak of lightening up in the mass and the turning twist of the clouds was not only more obvious now, but larger.

"...fast incoming on our right flank," a report shouted in John's ear, snapping him out of the moment and he quickly hurried up the stairs after Teyla.

She was moving quickly and steadily again, a gun in one hand, and he quickly pulled out one of his own.

"I am sensing at least four Wraith hunting us," Teyla reported.

"Move!" Seifer shouted.

As John reached the top step, the dusty littered road back ahead of him, the broken buildings lining the road, he saw the others legging it full speed down the road. Teyla paused a second, looking back at him. "I shall take the back position," she shouted.

He wasn't feeling great about her taking the six, but she looked fine now and, quite frankly, she had a better chance of protecting everyone's behind than him. So, he nodded and raced forward after the others.

The five of them ran along the road, keeping close to the wall again, but not as close as before. Speed was the important factor here.

The dust and wind was a problem though, and John had to lean into it to keep moving, and then as the bend turned ahead, the wind was suddenly at his back, and he almost stumbled over as he was pushed him forward too fast. However, he managed to keep his feet under him, and focused on powering forward, the bridge now in the near distance.

Thank God he had kept up with his morning runs, even after the whole embarrassing Bug incident had almost ruined that for him. Because, damn it if the Elite crew could run fast, and Seifer at the front was way ahead of the rest. John didn't need to look over his should to check if Teyla was keeping up, he knew how fast she could run.

A blast of Wraith stunner fire flared through the air, lighting up the air and dancing over the ground between Seifer's back and the others. The three security personnel slid to a halt, all lifting their weapons and firing up towards a Wraith that John could now see was stood in a break in the wall above.

Moving towards the embankment side of the road so that he could see the Wraith more clearly than those trapped below it, John fired up at the Wraith. The Elite energy weapon kicked in his hand, vibrating down his hand with its power. He'd forgotten how damn cool these things were!

The Wraith had seen his move across the road for a better angle and it stepped aside just enough to avoid the energy fire. John kept firing, but another Wraith appeared through the large hole in the towering wall, the building on the other side providing their vantage point. John kept firing, though aware that Teyla was firing away in another direction behind him.

Seifer, having been ahead of the action, now appeared in the corner of John's view. The Elite warrior launched himself, parkour style, up the side of the wall, high enough to reach up, unnoticed, to grab at one Wraith's ankle. Using surprise and his own body weight, Seifer tugged the Wraith off its feet, and in a scrambling tumble it fell down out of the hole and down onto the road with him. John was aware of a flash of a blade as well as more stunner fire that clearly finished off the fallen Wraith.

Only stunner fire became abruptly more personal. Energy hit John from the right, blazing over his Elite atmosphere suit as it dispelled the Wraith stunner fire. John turned in the instant the energy hit him, the tingling sensation passing quickly over his body. He quickly located the new enemy, up in the broken wall, and fired up at it.

Only the Wraith had picked a small hole in the wall from which to fire and John's returning fire hit mostly wall.

Two more Wraith abruptly appeared though, leaping down from the top of the wall, sailing down towards where Teyla was firing up at them.

John turned his fire on them too, hoping to catch them as they fell towards Teyla. But, it was Teyla's fire that hit one of them, the other getting past to land on its horribly nibble feet just behind her.

John re-angled his gun towards it, stunner fire blasting over him again from the other watching Wraith, but he could ignore stunner fire when dressed by the Elite. But, the stunner fire did alter his shot a little, and his weapons fire only grazed the back of the Wraith's shoulder as it turned towards Teyla.

She didn't fire on it though, instead, with the tiniest of movements, her left hand had reached to her waist and one of her swords was sailing out towards the Wraith in a horizontal strike.

The orangey light of Giant and another flash of lightening high above glinted off the sword as it tore towards the oncoming Wraith's middle. The Wraith stopped just in time, pulling back its middle to avoid the sharp deadly tip of her sword, but even as it passed the monster's belly, Teyla was bringing up her gun with her right hand. The weapons fire blasted directly into the Wraith's forehead, taking it out before she had even finished the initial swing of her sword.

John's moment of total amazement and appreciation of her move was lost in an instant though, because something fell hard against him, knocking him from his feet and down onto the hard, dry earth of the road.

His shoulder hit the ground, weight bearing him down hard. His weapon had been knocked from his right hand and his entire right arm was caught under him.

As his brain recovered from the rattling and recognised that he was trapped, he also registered what had happened.

One of the other members of the team had been thrown against him and she was now pinning him down. The back of her head hit the side of John's a second later, but the side of his mask took most of the hit, but it still bounced his head around for a second.

Pinned to the ground on his right arm and his left compressed by the woman on him, he looked round, over her shoulder, to see a Wraith bearing down on them.

The weight on John suddenly increased dramatically as the Wraith dropped all its own weight onto the two of them.

The woman fought it, kicking, wriggling, punching up at it, having lost her weapons.

John could do nothing to help her, pinned by her and the Wraith's combined weight, his right arm was pinned under him and his left was trapped under the woman. If he could get his left arm free he could get to his remaining gun on his left hip, but the Wraith wasn't really providing any leeway to do so.

As the two fought, John worked hard to pull his left arm free, aware of stunner fire and weapons fire blasting around them all. His right arm was starting to go numb and he was struggling to get a full lungful of air with these two on top of him.

Dust powdered against the outside of his mask as the wind pushed at them, and suddenly the woman on John froze. He snapped his eyes to the back of her head, feeling her whole body begin shaking.

The Wraith had both hands on her front and John could feel the woman getting suddenly lighter on him. The damn Wraith was feeding on her!

Shouting in anger, John wrestled hard against them, wriggling as hard as he could, uncaring about tearing his suit against the ground or dislocating his shoulder. If he didn't get to a weapon, then he was going to be dead too in a few seconds.

Suddenly some space around his left arm gave him the moment to pull his arm free abruptly, almost wrenching his shoulder it was so sudden, but he had it free. He grabbed down at his left hip and pulled out his other gun, whilst the Wraith above him finally lifted its killing hands from the dead woman.

John lifted his gun around the side of the corpse and blasted several shots right into the Wraith. It danced in the attack, the shots hitting it right in the middle and it slumped down dead.

Slumped down on top of John and the body.

"Damn it!" John shouted as he kept wrestling, but he had one arm free now at least. As he struggled free, finally getting his pain filled right arm out from under him, he was aware of the full scale fight going on in the road.

There had to be five or six Wraith, some up in their vantage point in or on the wall above, and several more on the road fighting.

As John pulled free finally, the two bodies heaped together, Wraith stunner fire hit him again.

Cursing, out loud or internally he couldn't be sure, he got one knee up under him and sighted up with his left hand up towards one of the Wraith that had fired on him.

He had great satisfaction when the thing was hit twice and fell out of the hole in the wall to the road below. But, there were too many more. John sighted and picked out another Wraith that was firing down on where Teyla stood her ground. The two remaining crew were at her back, firing up at the Wraith, while Teyla was fighting hand to hand with two of the creatures.

The dust and wind was hindering things though, and a metal plank rushed into the fight and fortunately hit a Wraith full in the face where it stood on the wall. John fired up at it and this one fell backwards, disappearing off the wall.

But, two other Wraith were now in the largest hole in the wall, both leaping down to the road's surface not far ahead of John. To the left, Seifer was fighting with several more, shooting and cutting at them in equal measures. Which left these two to attack John at will.

The two monsters sailed down towards the road and John fired repeatedly at them, rising up from his crouch, aware of a slight ache in one ankle, but he could ignore it. He shot one Wraith hard in the shoulder and neck, the thing hissing and turning away from him to protect itself.

The other however, took the opportunity to launch a leaping attack at John.

Except, blaster fire kicked it out of the air halfway towards John, the weapons fire having come from Teyla's direction.

Only John didn't have the chance to thank her, or even look to see if it was from her, because the other wounded Wraith was suddenly leaping over its falling colleague.

Fortunately, it had mistimed the jump slightly, maybe because it was injured, but it was still a good tackling attack. One arm came first at John, and he managed to dodge the feeding hand in that split second, shifting backwards from the attack, but the rest of the Wraith's heavy body was following and it slammed into John hard and fast.

Only, to make matters worse, it was only now that John realised how close his heels were to the edge of the embankment. As the Wraith hit him and he stepped back, he was suddenly falling backwards into thin air.

The dizzying sensation of a free fall engulfed him as he and the Wraith fell from the edge of the embankment, tumbling down towards the riverbed below.

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The thin mask over Carson's face felt hot and confining, more so than ever before. He had Dr Watson's ribcage open and, using the precision detail of the Ancient scanner, he had been able to get right to the tumour in record time.

It was right up close behind the man's lung though, wedged in tight. It was a dangerous place to work in any situation, but when it had to be as fast as possible, and the damn tumour itself could explode at any moment...

Carson took a calming breath, taking a moment to pause, just a split second to gather himself. He was no help to this man if he couldn't focus.

Sweat was dripping down his face, soaking into his mask, his hair, and sterile fabric hat. It wasn't all that hot in here, it was the pure terror and adrenaline at work.

The adrenaline wasn't helping steady his hands either.

His hands never shook when he worked, but they were today. It was just the faintest tremor, but it was there.

"Are you okay, Doctor?" came the caring question from his assisting nurse.

"Aye," he answered her. "If such a description can ever be used when cutting an explosive tumour out from behind someone's lung," he added as he re-angled his scalpel and cut through another section of tissue. It was more Dr Watson's tissue than the tumour, but Carson couldn't risk leaving anything in the man. It was better to remove too much and save the man and not risk cutting into the tumour itself.

He glanced to the scanner's screen again, using its amazing scans to show him what his eyes never could see. In the light of the screen, he caught his nurse's face, drawn and pale as she reached in and soaked up more of Dr Watson's blood to keep the way as clear as possible for Carson.

He'd asked her to go too many times to count now, not that he had any idea how long this surgery had been going on for. He was too focused, but he was feeling the strain now.

Sweat dribbled down the side of his face, almost into his eye. Usually he would have someone to help dab that up for him, but he couldn't risk time to ask the nurse to do that for him now. He just had to focus.

He reassessed the scan, then what he could see in front of him.

He thought he almost had it all. Just the last section to cut free.

But how much time did they have?

A faint noise abruptly rumbled in the distance.

Carson froze, for a crazy second thinking the tumour had blown.

Except nothing had changed.

"What was that?" His nurse as worriedly, her breathing clearly fast through her mask. "It almost sounded like an explosion. Could someone else have had one of these tumours?"

Carson didn't think so, since he already suspected what had caused this to both Doctors Hewston and Watson. It must have been that unknown Ancient device and its radiation they had been exposed to last night.

He should have run more tests, been more thorough.

No, such thinking wasn't going to help.

Right now he had the chance to save Dr Watson.

At least he could save one of them...

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Seeal watched the data spilling over the computer screens in front of her.

"Damn Wraith shitting piece of..." she cursed as she added more lines of code into the piece of Elite defence programming.

The ship was shaking under her, sudden shifts throwing her off her work, her fingers sliding off the smooth surface of the screens.

She had as many screens as possible displaying the attack on the Elite computers. The problem was that there were two attackers and three computers being attacked. Even though the attack wasn't hugely advanced, it was several angles of attack at once and they were clearly working together to make it harder.

There were others somewhere else on the Sythus that were helping, that were blocking and counterattacking the robots' assault, but Seeal was working on a more permanent defensive wall for the computers.

She'd made a copy of the defensive programme the others were using and was adding her own touches to it. She had plenty of experience against such computer attacks before, but she'd never had to defend one before whilst on a shaking ship under attack from Wraith.

Also, it was worryingly clear that these robots were fast learners. The first one's attack yesterday had been a child like attempt, but this latest attack was far more focused. She suspected that wherever these things had been hiding, on the hull if Oneakka was right, they had been using that time to watch the ship, listen in to the data to learn what they needed.

That wasn't what she'd seen Wraith tech do before.

At least not this quickly.

"What's happening?" Madesh asked worriedly from behind her shoulder.

An alarm was blaring in the distance and the stupid coloured light was filling the room with a distracting pulse.

"I'm trying to improve on this junk," she answered him hotly as the ship shuddered around them again.

"If we can feel these shakes even over the dampeners..." Madesh worried, and not for the first time in recent history. He wasn't being all that helpful.

The ship lurched abruptly again, the ship tilting a fraction suggesting that the ship had taken a serious and sudden change of direction. Seeal struggled to keep her seat as she typed in code.

The alarm blaring down the corridor went up a frequency and the ship shuddered again.

"Weapons fire?" Madesh wondered out loud.

"Since we're in a space battle that would make sense," Seeal replied curtly.

Her fingers slid on the screen, her palms sweaty, and she accidently typed in the wrong keys. Swearing and muttering she quickly deleted the errors and started again.

"Stupid battle crazed Elite and Wraith," she uttered, frustrated at the work.

"_Breaches are increasing,"_ a voice announced abruptly over the com, but Seeal ignored it.

"I should go and help," Madesh announced, which also wasn't for the first time.

"Go, help," she replied.

"I should," Madesh worried.

"Go then!" Seeal shouted over her shoulder. "You can't help me here."

There was some shouting outside the open doorway, boots hammering around the corner and then down away from the lab.

"I'm going to help," Madesh decided.

"Good, you made a decision," Seeal replied as she tapped in code faster than she ever had before, again making a few stupid errors. At least she was able to delete them almost as fast as she made them, but she was almost there.

The shuddering, the alarms, the shouting in the distance all faded into a totality of background noise that she could easily ignore as she worked.

She was almost there.

Nothing existed but getting the coding out of her brain and into the Elite programme. She was turning the defensive code into a fully fledged anti-hack piece of software that she had only ever used herself. She'd not given this to anyone else before, and to be honest she wasn't entirely sure if the Elite system assimilate take it, but it would do the job like nothing else. If this was in place, then the hacks wouldn't be a problem.

She just had to get it written and get it working...

"_All security hands to level 8 and 7_," the voice shouted throughout the ship.

Seeal paused for a second, the coding pausing...wasn't she on level 7?

It didn't matter - she needed to finish the code.

The screen to her left shifted, showing a very successful block of an attack by someone else in the ship. It was good, but it wouldn't hold like Seeal's would.

Her fingers flew over the flat keys, the room feeling empty behind her. Had Madesh gone? She didn't dare look round, nothing could be stopped for this.

The sudden sound of weapons fire caught her attention though.

She snapped her head round.

The lab was indeed empty; it was just her in here, with her back to the open door across the room.

The sound repeated again – it was definitely weapons fire, but it was in the distance. It was far down the corridors.

Then came the sound of shouting and someone crying out in pain.

That couldn't be good...

She turned back to her work. She paused, reassessing where she was in her code rewrite, forcing her mind to focus, to stop wondering, worrying.

She reached out and tapped open the radio frequencies, letting the radio chatter in, not just the shipwide announcements.

Loud, urgent voices overlapped each other, pouring out what felt and sounded like chaos as the crew battled inside the ship as well as outside it.

"_It's breaking through, hold it back!"_

"_Hold the line!"_

"_Station is breaking apart."_

"_Breaches temporarily sealed, venting no longer in progress."_

"_It's left legs! The left legs!"_

She turned off the chatter and quickly turned back to her work.

She was almost there. She began working again, tapping in the keys, the coding at least something that she could control, could understand.

The noises down the corridor weren't letting up though. If anything, it sounded worse. She had to stop herself from peering worrying back over her shoulder towards the open door and the hopefully empty corridor outside.

"Should have bloody stayed on Dreamstation," she muttered as she tapped in the last pieces of the code, the end almost in sight.

Yes it might be the end of the code, but what about the war going on around her?!

"One damn thing at a time!" She shouted at herself as the ship shuddered again, jostling her in her seat.

The last code entered, the programme written, she triggered it alive. Sitting frozen, she watched to see if it would even run!

Panting quietly to herself, she waited impatiently.

She reached across to another screen and pulled up a view of outside the ship.

Wraith ships filled the view, buzzing past, weapons fire going back and forward, explosions in space. As the Sythus shifted, moving her in her seat, the view outside changed to show the side of a massive Wraith space station, the middle of the thing falling apart, fire and debris scattering through the busy littered space.

She turned it off and turned back to her programme.

"Go help the Elite, go walk into a full battle – there's clearly something wrong with me," she muttered, glancing back over her shoulder again as she waited for her programme.

The screen flashed in her peripheral vision and she looked back away from the distant sounds of battle down the corridors.

The programme was running! Victory coursing through her, she quickly slid it into the defensive network of the Sythus' three computers, barrelling past the other defensive moves of the unseen others on the ship helping against the hack. She had been given free rein by Tyoosi for this, everything open to her, though she had no doubt that her every move was being recorded and would be studied after this was over. Hell, there might be someone specifically sat somewhere in front of a screen watching what she was doing in case she might steal something or turn on the Elite.

Whatever, she was saving the damn Elite computers.

Her programme in place, already welcomed because it was made out of the Elite's own programming, she sent it out to work.

The results were instant.

Grinning, Seeal sat back in her seat and watched the defensive wall repel everything. Of course it was her baby and she had just shared it with the Elite, but at least it was doing good rather than just protecting her own stuff. Not that she had much of her own things anymore.

She watched the screens as the hack attempts slowed and finally stopped, the robots hitting something they'd never seen before.

"Yeah, good luck getting through that," Seeal told the screens.

The screens flickered though.

She frowned at them, and then back towards the doorway. The lights flickered overhead.

Power disruption. Was it ship wide or local?

The robot had drained local power when she had been in the Hot Water Regulation Chamber.

She called up some security reports, and yes, low and behold, there was a robot on her level, level 7. Half the security of the ship were dealing with it, and there was another robot on the level above.

Seeal frowned at the energy readings. The power disruption was clearly in a spherical pattern around the things, stealing power from the ship around them.

She looked back to the other screens to see that the robots had definitely stopped hacking into the computer. Good.

Shouting in the distance accompanied another flicker of the lights and the screens.

Her brain was working hard, wired from the adrenaline still coursing through her system. The robots had full access to horrible amounts of power in the Sythus' power grid. If they were growing with energy, then wouldn't energy weapons feed them? Make them stronger? Which meant it was projectile weapons only...in the restricted areas of the corridors.

She stared back at the open doorway, her ears straining at the distant sounds, picking out shouting voices, weapons fire, cries, and what sounded like something collapsing.

Was she going to just sit here?

She looked back to the screens. Maybe there was something she could do here. Maybe a way to hack back into the robots.

She called up the folders that had recorded the hack that had only just been stopped. She wasn't surprised to see others were already studying it. She watched the data, looking at how the robots had worked their attack.

She frowned.

They had tag teamed against the computers, but...

She leant forward towards the screens.

If the seeds of these things had been on the hull, buried there after the Seed Ship had attacked the underside of the Sythus, then they had probably been grabbing their power when the battle outside had begun. They could even have used the power involved in hyperspace travel to germinate. Then local weapons fire, literal fires on the hull too, had probably grown the things in super time.

So, what if there were more on the hull? Not just the two on levels 7 and 8?

She looked through the data more thoroughly, particularly one point. It wasn't clear, but there was the hint, the ghost, of a third hacker.

She frowned at it, the screen flickering intermittently.

Turning to another screen, she pulled up the ship wide power readings and scans again, but others were dealing with them, and her access was being broken by the power interference.

Frustrated, she turned from the screens back towards the open doorway.

There was another way to find out. The main engine room wasn't far from here, and she was almost certain she had seen power regulation chambers labelled on the outside of some doors nearby.

If she got to one of them, she would have clear and obvious access, and better readings than what she was able to find piecemeal from here.

She had promised Oneakka that she would stay in the lab and out of trouble. But, she had also agreed that she could help out if the Wraith attacked.

She rolled her eyes at just the fact that she was questioning this decision. She snatched up her jacket, pulling out her electronic pad and headed towards the door.

The sounds of battle were far more obvious out in the corridor, and worryingly close. She hurried forward, switching her attention between her pad, which displayed where there was a power regulation room nearby, and the corridor ahead.

A turn in the corridor brought louder voices, shouting instructions back and forth, and weapons blasts further beyond.

Two doors to her right and she found the regulation room. She triggered open the door, the lights flickering faster overhead, and quickly entered.

Two crewmen were inside and looked round with wide frightened eyes.

"What are you-?" one demanded.

She ignored his half question as she hurried towards their data screens. "The robots are draining power from the grid," she told them.

"We know that, we are attempting to stop them," the tech replied.

Seeal took in as much she could before her, but she wasn't overly familiar with Elite power grids, in that she wasn't at all familiar with them. "Can you identify the robots' locations by the drain?"

"They're on levels 8 and 7," the other tech replied.

"Two are, but there may be more," Seeal replied as she reached out and pressed some buttons.

"Don't touch that," the first tech batted her hand away. "You are not authorised to be in here, let alone touch anything."

Annoyed and now angry, Seeal turned on the man. "Do you want to play this game while there is a killer robot just down the corridor headed this way?" She demanded. "Maybe if you're still alive after this, you will be able to explain to the Elite why you didn't help me stop the robots from destroying the rest of the ship and the rest of the crew!"

The man narrowed his eyes at her, but the other tech stepped forward and began pressing buttons. "The readings of the drains do seem to show a denser area of power loss at the furthest end of this corridor. We believe that is simply because of power grid damage caused when the robots cut into the ship."

Seeal turned away from her staring match with the other idiot tech. "So there might be more of them there."

"I would imagine if there were more the drain would be greater," the helpful tech answered. "Unless it was just one more."

"Hiding in the shadow of the others," Seeal considered. It would be a smart thing to do. "How far does that extra power drain extend?"

The tech pressed away. "The drains are not limited to the level, they appear to drain power in a spherical field around themselves." The ship shuddered around them and Seeal pressed one hand to the wall to steady herself.

"Can you show it three dimensionally?" She asked as the Sythus shifted again, another fast manoeuvre no doubt.

"Yes," the first idiot tech put in now, presumably not having liked being left out. He moved to another screen and tapped away to bring up a ship wide display, that he zoomed through to the appropriate apart of the ship. The Elite numbered their levels upwards, so level 7 was below level 8, but two roundish areas of darkened detail were displayed.

Seeal reached forward to use the controls he had done to turn and move the image. "There's the tiniest hint of an extension here," she pondered.

"That would be the top of level 6 below," the second tech agreed, reaching in to bring up a more detailed image. "It may just be that the robot above has damaged the upper power grid on that level."

"Or there could be another one down there, hiding in the cover of the one on level 7," Seeal disagreed. "We need to know for sure."

"Or it could just be because of the breach-"

She didn't listen to anymore, she simply moved towards the door. "If I were you two, I'd lock this door behind me and only come out if an Elite tells you to."

She triggered open the door to much louder shouting down to the right. She didn't bother looking back to the techs behind her, instead she called up the area that had been on the screen on her pad and slid the pad into her jacket pocket.

A turn ahead and she was suddenly no longer alone.

A huddled, but strong looking line of security spanned the corridor, all with weapons raised and their backs to her. Madesh was among their number, so she hurried up behind him in the line.

"Madesh-" She started over his shoulder.

He jumped out of his skin, turning and yelping like a child. "Seeal!" He exclaimed the second he saw it was her. "I could have shot you!" He shouted, really upset. The other security beside him looked a little rattled, but not as much as him.

"Well, well done for controlling yourself," she replied, but quickly moved on to more important matters. "I think there may be another robot on the level below."

"What?" Madesh asked with still wild eyes.

"Where?" A security man to her left asked though.

"Just below here, maybe closer towards the hull that way," she pointed ahead of them.

"Why do you think that?" Another person asked, leaning slightly out of the line.

"The way they're draining the power locally," she answered, not bothering with the detail of the hack she had seen. "We need to-"

Up ahead the shouting rose up a level, the agitation growing and everyone looked ahead to see a mass of security personnel backing up around the next corner, blasting ahead of them.

Seeal stepped back behind Madesh, since she didn't have a weapon, which she really should remedy right away.

"Back, back, back!" Came Tyoosi' voice over the rest and three ranks of security moving backwards appeared around the corner.

A worryingly familiar metallic set of claws appeared at the top right hand corner of the bend. Seeal watched as they dug into the wall, getting a good grip. Security fired up at the 'hand', trying to severe it at an obvious joint.

Only another 'hand' appeared below it, digging into the actual wall of the ship, bits of cable and masonry falling down over a security member who had fallen over in their desperation to get away.

How big that these robots gotten?!

A wrenching metallic sound suddenly became audible over the firing, and Seeal watched in shocked awe as part of the corner wall broke apart and the robot came fully into view.

Apparently they didn't bother moving around bends and instead just went through the wall, and why not, the thing was as big as the corridor, the sides obviously scratching the walls, pulling everything down around it as it pursued the security force.

Metallic limbs that weren't dug into the wall or ceiling were swinging at the crew, the claws not as small and sharp as the small one Seeal had fought. The increased size had added bulk and weight rather than keeping the small scalpel like quality of the smaller one.

Security's weapons fire didn't appear to be making all that much difference, the projectiles only forcing dents here and there, and didn't appear to be slowing the thing at all.

"Fall back. Through here!" Tyoosi' voice arrived again from somewhere, and Seeal peered forward to see that there was another door to the left and that the Security Lead was heading out of it, a group of crewman with him that were carrying far larger, more dangerous looking weaponry.

"Grapple the limbs," Tyoosi ordered. "Focus fire on breaking the claws and wrists! Fall back for large weapons fire!" He shouted his series of orders, pointing, pushing his way through his people, right in the thick of it.

Behind the Lead, Seeal spotted Lieutenant Ford who appeared to have been given one of the larger new guns and was hurrying forward to form a new offensive line against the robot, everyone else hurrying back behind that line.

Tyoosi was free behind them, so Seeal took her chance, slipping between Madesh and other security to head towards him.

"Fire!" Tyoosi ordered and the new weapons blasted forward, battering the robot, but also the walls and ceiling around it. Seeal winced at the noise level as she raced towards Tyoosi. The second she reached him she grabbed at his arm, demanding his attention.

He didn't react aggressively at all, just looked round sharply, probably used to people getting his attention like this in the middle of a full out battle.

"There may be another robot on the level below!" She bellowed at him.

He didn't look shocked or angry at her sudden appearance, and instantly took in what she said. "Why?" He asked.

"There's a small anomalous power reading on the level below this one," she shouted back, "another robot might be using this one as cover."

Tyoosi blinked, his mind clearly working as he looked back at the robot ahead of him. The carpet was on fire in front of the thing now, which appeared to be making it pause.

Tyoosi pointed at a man to his left and shouted out three other names. "Go with Seeal to the level below, check there isn't another one of these things. Stay in constant contact."

"Yes, Sir," the man replied as he gestured to the other three and they moved away. "This way," the man ordered Seeal as he passed her.

Somewhat surprised that Tyoosi had taken her word, it took Seeal a second to follow, so she was last to the wall where they had opened up a panel. A ladder inside was their route down to the next floor.

Seeal glanced through the crowded space of the corridor to see Madesh looking her way, frowning worriedly. Hoping he would be okay up here, she nodded to him quickly before it was her turn to climb into the open wall panel.

She should have known the crew would move quickly, because her new small team were already down the ladder and out of sight before she had gotten down the first rung.

She moved quickly after them, aware that her hands were sweating, and it occurred to her again that she didn't have weapon.

As she reached the next level, the panel entrance open, she climbed out to find the other four waiting for her, their weapons up and covering all directions.

The lights were flickering to the left, but completely shut down to the right. Dull emergency lighting was struggling to hold in that direction, so the right hand corridor had a very dark and worrying stillness to it.

"I need a weapon," she stated out loud as she looked down into the gloom.

"Here," a gun was pressed into her hand. "Hope you know how to use it," the man replied, the one Tyoosi had assigned to this little jaunt. "Which way?" He asked.

Wasn't it obvious?

"This way," she indicated the way with little or no power.

She pulled her pad back out of her jacket pocket and tried to relate her current position with what she could see on the glowing screen.

They moved carefully and quietly down the corridor.

There were only a few doors off the corridor here, all shut, and there were no obvious signs of any robots clambering through the corridors.

Maybe she was wrong.

That would be okay, because she was beginning to wish there were more than four crew with her.

"Where do you think this thing is then?" Someone asked her, and Seeal wasn't sure if the hushed tone was sarcastic or nervous.

"The blip extended about this area," Seeal considered as they reached one patch of corridor. All eyes kept moving upwards though, no doubt worrying that the robot upstairs was about to come crashing through on top of them. The levels were thicker than that though...right?

"This is the outer wall, the hull," someone reported from the far front of the group. The end of this corridor turned sharply to the left where she stood. "There's nothing down the outlying corridor that I can see," she added, peering around the next corner. No sign that anything breached the hull on this level."

"It might have come down from level 7, through the ceiling," someone else whispered back.

Seeal frowned down at her pad, stopping where was her best estimate of where the the drain had been on the tech's map. The robot had moved since of course.

She had probably been wrong.

She looked at the rest of the team who were at the far end of the corridor, though one stayed suspiciously closer to her. "We should check the rooms-"

A silver claw the size of a table speared out of the wall to the left, piercing across the corridor and straight through the man stood closest to Seeal. He screamed in the instant it happened, but by the time the claw embedded itself in the wall opposite the man was dead, hanging limply against the wall.

The rest of the team instantly began firing at the long arm and the robot that was now bursting its way out of the wall and into the corridor. The problem was that Seeal was now behind the thing and they were all firing towards her as well as the robot.

She rushed to the wall, pressing close and down to the floor to reduce her size and hoping that most of the crew's fire was going to be directed upwards and into the middle of the corridor.

Blasting sounds and pieces of wall falling down around her, she peered up to see the back end of the robot moving away from her and towards the rest of the team and the outer wall of the ship.

Someone screamed in pain down the other side of the robot's backside. Seeal pulled away from the wall, only for weapons fire to pepper the wall above her. She threw herself to the floor and, both luckily but grossly, landed behind the discarded body of the man who had been pierced against the wall. His body lay lifeless on the floor, but was now providing her some protection from weapons fire.

The man's head towards her, she spied the radio link in his dead ear. She reached out and grabbed it up, pulling the small unit out from the pocket in his collar.

She pressed the ear piece into her own ear to hear the report going out that there was a robot on this level.

As she looked back towards the robot, her eye was caught by something through the massive hole in the corridor wall that it had created. Something dark and out of place was up in the corner.

It was probably where it had gotten in down here...except.

Ignoring the weapons fire now, she crawled forward around the body to look closer, the dull flickering lightning making it harder for her to see.

Except...

A glow was emitting from it. It was a dark gloopy piece of technology that had been placed up in the corner of the room the robot had been in...

Why would it attach a piece of tech to the upper corner of a room? Was it breeding?

The glow from inside the object started flashing faster.

The answer was instant and terrifying.

Seeal snapped her eyes towards where the robot was battling the crew...their backs to the outer hull wall...

Seeal pushed herself up off the floor, turning her back to the robot, and raced away as fast she her legs could take her down the dark flickering corridor.

As she ran, she triggered open the radio link that was flapping at the side of her neck. "BOMB on level 6!" She screamed into it. "Outer hull!"

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TBC


	47. The Storm

**Note:** Thank you everyone for the reviews. I am sorry that I am being so piecemeal with the chapters, but the action takes attention and life is busy. However, I am so pleased that everyone is enjoying it, and I'm having so much fun delivering this story, which I've had planned for so long now - Just you guys wait till the next story ;) *evil laugh of joy* It's so interesting to bring to life something that's just been in my head for years. Writing is a fascinating process and I love to share it with likeminded people. So, here's another chapter for the weekend...now, where did we leave the action...

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**Chapter 47 – The Storm**

Fire exploded in space, debris, fighters, weapons fire, and Wraith cruisers filling every screen in front of Oneakka. But, his main focus remained the space station.

Banking sharply around its flank, the Sythus pounded more fire power into the now seriously weakened superstructure of the station.

Oneakka dropped his attention to the scans on the display beside him.

One more volley would do it.

But, he was wrong.

Fire blazoned out of the front screen, the data scans in front of him temporarily blinded by the massive explosion outside.

"Pull us away," Oneakka ordered loudly, but already the Sythus was shifting, the pilots displaying their skills that outshone all in the Alliance.

Which left Oneakka the time to watch the Wraith space station breaking apart.

"Detonations spreading up the superstructure," Halling reported. "Explosion is imminent."

"Distance increasing, 42115," a pilot responded.

The deck shifted under Oneakka's boots again though. The cause was clear. Two large Cruisers had focused on the Sythus and were sweeping in from behind.

"Bank us back round towards them," Oneakka ordered. "Attack pattern as last time."

The Sythus shifted sharply, drawing a far tighter angle back round than the Cruisers would expect or be able to predict. The Sythus was considerably more manoeuvrable that the larger Cruisers, especially these new Cruisers. Clearly the Wraith had been using their time in the Nest System to grow their Cruisers a little bigger. It only made them larger targets in Oneakka's mind.

Weapons fire hit hard and fast against the forward view, one Cruiser reacting quicker than the other to predict the Sythus' move. But, it was too late, the Sythus was slicing through the space between the cruisers as they tried to pincher the Sythus.

"Deploy!" Oneakka ordered.

From under the belly of the Sythus, two seeker bombs were being released, the devices similar enough to the Wraith's former space mines in that they were designed to target enemy ships and latch on. This close to both the Cruisers, the mines had no problem finding their marks.

The problem was getting away fast enough not to be caught in the blast.

"Cruisers are pressing in," someone reported worriedly. Oneakka could see what was happening though, the two Cruisers were attempting to squash the Sythus between their hulls. It would damage them significantly, but would splatter the Sythus.

"Quickest route out," Oneakka ordered the pilots.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," one pilot responded and immediately the Sythus turned another sharp angle, twisting and re-angling upwards, powering up out of the quickly narrowing space between the Cruisers at a speed that was so strong that Oneakka had to grip onto the display screen to keep upright.

Open space filled the view, the Cruiser's uppermost hulls disappearing on both sides.

"Cruisers will impact on each other in two seconds," a voice announced.

"Space station is going critical," another voice overlaid.

"Keep the Cruisers between us and the explosion," Oneakka ordered back round towards the closest pilot.

The woman nodded, but was too focused to answer. Her hands were shifting constantly over her console, her male counterpart behind Oneakka's other shoulder was the one to reply as he worked slightly secondary to her.

"Station-" Halling began to report, but the rest of the sentence was unnecessary. The explosion of the station filled all the screens and Oneakka felt the power of it vibrate through the Sythus.

All the screens blanked again, the energy output of the explosion interfering with all sensors and cameras for a moment, but everything came back online in an instant.

"The Cruisers not only impacted each other, but took the full brunt of the blast," Halling reported. "Both are badly damaged; one has lost all power, the other is showing internal explosions. We need distance."

"Do it," Oneakka ordered the pilots.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," the male pilot responded, whilst the screens immediately altered in front of Oneakka as the Sythus powered away, swinging back round in a wide arc back in the direction deeper into the Nest.

Oneakka consulted the scans of the station as the Sythus powered past its scattering remains. It was completely destroyed, but the war was far from over.

"Status of the Fleet?" He asked over his shoulder.

"All ships fully engaged," Halling responded. "Fifty-eight separate engagements ongoing, we have lost three ships and thirteen are badly damaged. All Hives have been either destroyed or are engaged. Two are attempting to flee out the far side of the system, but two Fleet divisions have been deployed and are engaging them. There are reports of sixteen mine collisions, but unclear as yet if the Wraith have impacted their own space mines whilst fleeing or if our own ships have been damaged."

"Status of the planets?" Oneakka asked next.

"All moons and planets targeted have massive damage, three divisions of the Fleet are engaging in high orbit-"

The Sythus shuddered under renewed weapons fire.

They were heading towards one of the largest planets in the Nest, the surface still clearly burning and a large Hive that had been on the surface, or in lower orbit when the EM field had hit, lay like a cracked open egg on the surface.

"We have three new thicker hull Cruisers incoming," a voice announced.

Oneakka scanned the screens, picking out the three angled attack. "Who's with us?" He asked as he switched view to the aft camera angles.

"We have eight Alliance ships working in tandem," Halling answered, having been working directly with them. "Five have sustained damage, one serious."

Oneakka nodded. They had enough to head onwards towards the planet ahead, clear its orbit, and to check round the far side of the planet where their scans couldn't see. For all they knew, there might be another Hive or space station back there.

Only, before engaging there were other issues. He dropped his gaze back to the corner of his display screen that had been showing the latest reports on the computer hack. The latest report was now confirming that the hacks had stopped and the computer systems fully protected. Oneakka knew who would be behind such a sudden definitive result.

"Status of the robots?" He asked next as the planet ahead slowly grew on the screen.

"The robot on level 8 is down, but the fight is continuing on level 7 and structural damage is occurring to that level," someone replied.

Oneakka frowned as he jabbed at a control on his display. "Tyoosi?" He triggered the radio connection straight to the Security Lead's link.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Tyoosi' voice replied from the speakers around Oneakka. The sounds of warfare in the background were not what Oneakka wanted to hear.

"Report?" Oneakka demanded.

Shouting and weapons fire blasted through the speakers for a moment. "The robot on level 8 has been taken down with grappling hooks and a high electric charge, but the robot on level 7 here is considerably larger and in the confined space-" more weapons fire and a scream broke the connection momentarily.

"Pull back!" Tyoosi shouted to his people on the other end of the link.

Oneakka itched to get down there himself, but right now he was needed here and Tyoosi knew what he was doing.

More weapons fire blasted through the link speakers. "Fire on the wrists joints again!" Tyoosi ordered loudly. "Honoured Elite," Tyoosi' voice once again addressed Oneakka. "This larger robot is fully armoured and is so big that it is filling the corridors. Projectile weapons are having slow success."

Oneakka looked back down Central Station towards Halling. Halling looked as worried at the new development as Oneakka felt. If it went on too long, Oneakka would have to go down there and Halling could run things up here. "How long until you stop it?" Oneakka asked Tyoosi.

"We have it contained, though we have sustained minor structural damage to the corridors," Tyoosi shouted back over the background firing. "It should be dealt with shortly. Is it still attempting to hack the computer systems?"

"The computers have been fully protected," Oneakka answered.

"Good," Tyoosi shouted back. "There may be an additional concern," he added. Oneakka almost signed – because they needed more. The planet on the largest screen ahead of him was growing ever closer and the Cruisers were fast approaching from three angles.

"What?" Oneakka asked.

"There is the chance that there may be a third robot down on level 6 below us. I've sent Seeal and a small team to find out and report back"

Oneakka's attention snapped to the speaker on his display screen. "Seeal?"

"She believes there may be one down there hiding in this one's shadow, but it is unconfirmed as yet," Tyoosi replied. "Hold the line!" He added to his people.

"Report as soon as you have any news," Oneakka replied, aware that he was distracting the Security Lead.

He had told Seeal to stay in the lab!

But if she thought there was another one. Oneakka glanced away from the views outside. "Reports from level 6?"

Halling was tapping away on the tactical screens. "There is indeed a growing small extension of power loss on that level, but it may be damage from level 7 above."

Weapons fire out the front of the nose of the Sythus snapped Oneakka's attention back round towards the screens. "Evasive and offensive response," he ordered.

"Cruisers have deployed fighters which are engaging," a report announced, though Oneakka could see that for himself.

"Ballista fighters engaging," Halling added. A squadron of fighters had joined the Sythus' attack vector on the station and had remained in the protective radius of the ship. They would be more than useful now.

Oneakka watched the small fighters fly out in two wings to either side, flying towards the dark swarm of approaching Wraith fighters.

There were some days in which Oneakka was particularly struck by the bravery of those he fought with, and as he watched those tiny fighters flying full power into the oncoming advancement of Wraith fighters, he wished he could do more to help. But, for now they were assisting the Sythus and the other larger ships to get to where they were headed. Everyone had a part of play.

Which apparently also now included Seeal.

Oneakka glanced to his display screen, willing it to show a report that all was clear on level 6. The last thing they needed was another robot, or perhaps even more of the smaller ones infecting the ship.

"Fighters fully engaging," a voice reported and the ship shuddered slightly. "Wraith fighters are targeting the contained breach sites on our hull!"

Damn the Wraith to have spotted the small breach sites where the robots had cut into the hull. "Status of the breach sites?" Oneakka asked.

"Mobile force fields in place and the two sites have been structurally reinforced," Halling was the one to answer. "Smaller weapons fire breaches on levels 10 and 11 have been reinforced as well." That was some positive news at least.

Oneakka could feel the shudders of continuing weapons fire though. He watched the Sythus returning fire on the screens, taking out those damn fighters that thought they could poke a hole in the side of the Sythus.

He glanced down to the display screen again – why wasn't there any report from level 6 yet? The screen flickered slightly. "Power systems?" He asked loudly as the ship shuddered again around him, the small weapons fire of the fighters battling around the moving hull shaking everything.

"The robot on level 7 is closer to the main power distri-" Halling began.

"BOMB Level 6!" Seeal's voice suddenly shouted across all the speakers, cutting through all the chatter and snapping all attention to the sudden shocking announcement.

Yet, it was the real fear and breathless panic that Oneakka heard in her voice that caused a vice grip of panic inside him.

"Outer hull!" She shouted a split second later and the link went dead.

A mass of strategic and panicked thoughts flew together as Oneakka spun round to face the rest of Central Station, his mouth opening to demand orders to find the bomb, but the chance was taken away from him.

The violence of the explosion was unmistakable.

The world around Oneakka hit him hard, the carpet rushing up at him.

He got his forearms out in front of him, catching his weight as he fell, and around him he heard cries of pain and the tumble of bodies hitting the floor.

Only a new dramatic and undeniable force grabbed hold. Suddenly the world was shifting, the carpet angling away to one side. Rocked onto his side, Oneakka made an instinctive grab at the base of the display screen he had been using, the thing suddenly becoming his anchor.

"Explosion level 6!" A voice shouted. "We're losing right lateral stabilisers and power to number one engine block!"

Central Station began to fall around Oneakka, the ship's artificial gravity dragging him away from his hold with an irresistible pull. He was aware of clutter and people falling, tumbling away as what was once the side wall of Central Station was fast becoming the floor.

"Stabilise!" Oneakka shouted, aware that Halling was shouting the same from somewhere off to the left.

"Power right lateral is completely down," the female pilot shouted from above Oneakka where she was secured into her piloting seat, but he could hear the strain in her voice as she battled to work and stay upright in the shifting world around her. "Correcting with other laterals," she struggled to add.

The pull of artificial gravity started to lessen and the floor once more sucked Oneakka down towards it. His front hit the floor, clipping his chin slightly, but it hadn't been that far to fall.

As the ship began to correct, the world righting itself around him again, he let go of the base of the display screen and got his feet under him. "Report on damage!" He ordered to the crew all struggling back up onto their own feet across Central Station.

"Power is re-establishing," a voice announced, sounding winded but stable.

Only gravity began shifting again, the floor seeming to angle away under Oneakka. He gripped a full hug of the small display screen this time.

"Power is inconsistent," the voice explained, and Oneakka spotted the man in question struggling to stay upright at his screen as gravity worked to pull him away from it.

Oneakka heard Halling swearing as the wall tried to be the floor again.

"Power drain keeps interfering...cannot stabilise power long enough..." the man added, but even as he reported the floor started to revert to normal again.

Oneakka wasn't fooled, he kept a tight grip of the display, but he looked round back to the screens of the battle outside. "Report on battle!" He ordered.

"We have stopped dead in space," a voice replied. "Three Fleet ships are encircling us providing defensive wall, but two Cruisers still incoming."

"Where's the third?" Oneakka asked as he started looking for the information himself on the display screen, only gravity started changing yet again. "Wraith shitting...!"

People began falling from their stations again.

"Power the ship round to counteract with one engine," Oneakka ordered.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," the male pilot grunted from his secure seat.

"Power rerouting in progress," a voice shouted. "Power drain from the robot on level 7 has ceased, some power is getting through. Front end lateral stabilisers responding, but we've lost an entire section of them."

Lost an entire section? Oneakka held tightly onto his display as gravity started to return to what he and his inner ear felt were normal. The carpet under him started to feel secure again.

"Level 6?" Oneakka asked, all new questions firing up.

"Reading a massive breach in the right flank side of level 6. The front of that level has been locked down, but we have two whole sections of the level still venting into space," a voice replied.

"Reading unexplained power drain on that level not consistent with the explosion," Halling added. "There must be another robot down there."

One that planted a bomb?!

Seeal.

"Any life readings on level 6?" Oneakka asked as he released his display.

"Forward sections of level 6 are being evacuated in the areas sealed off safely, but no scanners are working in the venting areas," Halling replied. "There is incomplete full lockdown, doors did not seal on all the level, possibly because of the robots' power drains. We have venting through one quarter of the ship on level 6 and it will be open to vacuum in minutes. With the gravity shifts, we may have lost personnel out the breach sites."

Panic flared up Oneakka's throat like he'd not felt in a very long time.

Seeal.

Without stopping to think about the decision, Oneakka headed for the closest door off Central Station.

"We need to make sure that new robot is taken down. Get everyone off level 6 that you can, make sure that robot on level 7 is completely out."

"You'll need back up," Halling shouted as Oneakka raced out of Central Station.

Oneakka didn't answer, he just broke into a full run down the long length of the outlying corridor. There were few people around to get in his way, and those that were there, mostly still picking themselves up off the floor, had plenty of time to clear the way for him.

He had to make sure that robot was dealt with, had to make sure it was dead.

He had to find out what happened to her.

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The Wraith rushed at Teyla. She could see they were working together, trying to distract her and also get round her to the weaker two security personnel she was helping defend.

Weapons fire was blasting around the road, chatter and loud breathing an ignored background mix in her radio earpiece now. She spun in place, one sword's blade sweeping around with her to slice cleanly through both arms of the Wraith reaching for her. The creature's face contorted in pain and anger, but she brought her other hand up and fired her weapon solidly twice into the Wraith's face. It dropped instantly, but she kept turning, swinging back round to assess the two security with her. They were holding close together, one stood, one knelt, as they fired at the Wraith amassing on the wall overlooking the road.

But, Teyla's eyes were drawn past them, towards where John had been fighting.

Only, she found herself witnessing the horrific moment as John, knelt in a precarious position near the edge of the embankment, was knocked backwards in the tackling clutches of a Wraith.

Every instinct screamed at her to do something, but the moment was too quick, the distance from him too far, and she could only watch as both John and the Wraith fell out of sight down off the embankment.

"Move forward!" She commanded to her remaining two security personnel.

How far had John fallen? Had the Wraith latched onto him? Was it feeding off him as he fell? Was he alive?

The security personnel obeyed her command instantly, moving down the road, weapons high and firing. Beyond where John had fallen, Teyla could see the remains of the lost member of the team, and further down the road Seifer was locked in battle. Teyla added shots towards that fight, taking one Wraith down that was attempting to circle in around behind Seifer as he battled.

"Faster!" Teyla shouted over the radio, aware that her senses were shouting new messages to her. "More Wraith are approaching!"

And in instant confirmation of her report, with a burst of new chaotic air, a small Wraith ship burst from between two buildings, weapons fire pounding down onto the road.

Teyla slid to a stop, the personnel with her, and began firing up at the small ship. It was bigger than one of their fighters, more transport craft sized. As she fired up at it, part of her listened intently to the radio for John's voice, or even his breathing, but there was too much chatter, and the wind was loud enough now that it was a real presence on the outside of her mask.

That wind had its uses though, for clearly the Wraith ship was struggling to hold position in the air. Teyla targeted what looked like the engine blocks and fired up hard and fast into it, whilst simultaneous moving forward, angling towards the edge of the embankment.

The Wraith ship shuddered, but turned, protecting its engine from the attack, but abruptly small objects began battering into the side of the Wraith ship. It wobbled in the air.

Teyla paused in her firing, almost thrown from her feet by the same sudden gust of wind. Soil scattered against her mask as she fought to stay upright.

Something large sailed by her, clipping her elbow and she dropped to one knee, protecting her head.

"Storm...hit!" Seifer's voice broke through the noise into her ear.

A metal plank clattered by her, scattering more red soil with it, but Teyla had to risk reaching the embankment. Turning her head, she saw she was close to the edge now. She rose up from her crouch and struggled her way to the edge, glancing around to see that there was only one remaining Wraith on the road and Seifer was dealing with it. The Wraith ship was still close by, but it was clearly damaged and the two security personnel were pummelling it with weapons fire.

Risking the moment, Teyla reached the edge of the embankment, moving around two dead Wraith that John had dispatched, she desperately looked over the edge to the riverbed far below.

She spotted him instantly, seeing him moving, that he was alive – but he was on the muddy bottom of the riverbed, pinned on his back and was fighting with the Wraith that had also survived the fall.

They were both coated in mud and were wrestling, John's hands around the Wraith's forearms holding back its feeding hands. She could see blood dribbling down one of the Wraith's arms, but the other arm looked strong...and John looked like he was only just holding the monster back.

She only had an energy weapon left and knew she was too far away and at the wrong angle to fire on the Wraith and not hit John. The wind rushed at her side again, pushing her away from the edge and her view of John locked in his life and death battle. She got one gloved hand down to catch herself from falling over onto the road, but as she did and looked up she saw the clouds above.

They were turning, descending down from the orange and purple hovering sky.

A tornado was forming.

"To...shelter!" Seifer shouted over the radio link, just audible over the howling sound that dominating everything.

Teyla couldn't focus on that now though – John needed her.

Struggling against the wind, she once again looked over the edge of the embankment to see that John and the Wraith were still locked in the same battle, but that the wind was whipping water and soil against them now.

She slid her sword into its sheath at her lower back and, gripping her gun tightly in one hand, she got her boots onto the embankment's edge.

"Emmagan!" She registered Seifer's voice.

"Get to shelter," she shouted back. "I have to help Sheppard," she added as she threw herself down over the edge of the embankment.

The side of the riverbed was thick with mud and she slid most of the way down. There was no way to control her descent and she ended up tumbling down the last part, but landed into thick cushioning mud.

It was more sheltered here from the wind than up on the embankment, but the wind still pushed at her as she struggled to move quickly upright in the mud. It clung to her though, and she realised that she had lost her gun somewhere on the way down here. She reached to her side, but all her other guns were gone to the battle up on the road, only her swords remained.

John and the Wraith were just ahead, John's arms visibly shaking with muscle fatigue, but he was kicking up at the Wraith, kneeing it hard and fast, as he struggled against it.

Clambering up in the mud, Teyla struggled not to slip over, to get her boots out of the suction of the mud, and to fight against the pushing onslaught of the wind against her.

She had to get to John.

Had to save him.

It was desperation more than anything that helped her, and she was aware that there were tears in her eyes as one foot slipped out from under her, but as she stumbled, she felt some gravel under her boots. More stable footing gave her the moment, straining against the wind, to reach back and draw out one sword. She could see and feel wind driven soil and dust peppering against its length, but she was almost to John.

Reaching out around her desperation, her fear, and the physical assault on her body, she tore out with her mind and slammed it into the Wraith's.

The creature hadn't even sensed her approach, and her mental attack froze the creature in place.

With two last muddy steps she stepped up to the fight and sliced her sword round.

It cut through the Wraith's neck like it wasn't there.

Her shout of fury echoed away in her mask as the head rolled away, leaving John alive and well in the mud.

Adrenaline and something strangely new seemed to course through her veins as she puffed out a breath, aware that she had tapped into something overwhelmingly powerful. The last time she had felt that had been when chasing down and killing the assassins that had been driving through the Governing Complex to murder her family.

Her family.

Her eyes fell on John where he lay in the mud having just had enough energy to shove the dead Wraith's body off him. He looked exhausted, but she saw him start to smile with gratitude up at her, only his eyes shifted off to her left, up towards the sky with renewed horror.

She looked round without needing to know what he saw.

A column of spinning destructive clouds and wind was descending to touch the ground at the end of the river inlet.

She didn't stop to think, she stepped up to John, sliding her sword into its sheath and reached down to help him up. "We need to run!"

His hands met hers, accepting her full bodied assistance to get up from the thick mud under him.

"Are you hurt?" She shouted at him, but she could already see that he was moving freely to get up.

"No!" She vaguely heard him through the radio link.

The wind buffeted at them, almost shoving her over and they clung to each other as they braced their boots against the mud. But, the second she could, she pushed forward, dragging John with her towards a streak of that more gravelly ground along the river bottom.

The bridge was ahead...if they could get to that in time...

She might have shouted the idea, but the noise of the tornado was overwhelming behind them. John kept up with her, the two of them tearing along the mud and gravel towards the distant weak protection of the bridge they had crossed earlier.

Dust, soil, bricks, water droplets, and other debris she couldn't identify began flying ahead of her, but she kept running, one hand tightly gripping onto John's arm as he raced inches behind and to the side of her.

The sound of the tornado was thunderous around them as they hit yet more gravelly ground and raced forward, John's hand on her back pushing her as much as she was pulling him with her.

She didn't dare risk even a split second to look back at what was behind them. She didn't need to see it, she could feel and hear it racing towards them. The remains of previous tornado debris buried into the riverbed told of the common path and power of the storms, and she had to work hard not to imagine she and John might be speared through at any moment. Or were they going to be whipped up into the swirling heart of the twisting madness behind them?

The towering supports of the bridge were ahead, the dark shadow under it like a looming being waiting to provide them with what cover it could.

They made it into that dark shadow a moment later, sliding to a sudden stop, both of them swinging around and down behind the outermost bridge support from the storm, dropping low to huddle together against the massive post as the tornado arrived.

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TBC


	48. The Last Hold

**Note:** Right, time to get through this action, and since I've got a couple of days holiday, I thought it would be worth posting a few chapters close together to get this action done. After all, there's only so many cliff-hangers people can take...

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**Chapter 48 – The Last Hold**

The air was a rushing pushing constant around Seeal as she clung to the open doorway that had been her salvation. The ship appeared to be on its side though, which meant that not only was she having to hang on to stop herself from being blown down the length of the corridor behind her by the escaping air, but the side wall of the corridor was now the floor.

Two forces acting on her body was bad enough, but the air was moving so fast around her, getting so thin, that it was clear that this part of the level was venting to space fast.

Which meant she was going to run out of air very soon.

As she clung on for dear life, it annoyed her to think that she had managed to survive a bomb blast to end up being blown out into space. Of all the ways she had wondered how she might meet her end, ending up in a vacuum had been one of the worst.

Her top worst death still remained freezing to death. Her homeworld and cruel people had nicely cemented that fear into her very bones.

The ship began rolling back the right way again and her lower body bumped down to the floor once again, but the air was still howling at her. It was getting slightly less forceful though, which wasn't actually a good sign.

Neither was the fact that she was getting lightheaded and the corridor was starting to swim around her. She needed oxygen.

She lifted her head up, hands still tightly gripping the edge of the doorframe, and looked down the length of the corridor ahead of her.

This side corridor had been what had saved her from the bomb blast. She'd legged it faster than she'd ever run before away from the bomb, and come across this side corridor, running off to the right. She'd only gotten a few metres down it before the bomb had detonated, but fortunately she'd been near this doorway to grab onto something to stop herself being blown back down the way she had come.

However, surviving that wasn't going to make any difference if she was about to die of asphyxiation.

Salvation was ahead though. She had been shown the red wall boxes stationed along all the corridors during her orientation with Tyoosi. He'd spent quite a bit of time at one, lecturing her how she was never to open one unless it was an emergency.

Well this certainly qualified.

Taking as deep breaths as she could in the thin whistling air, she got her feet under her, fighting the escaping air as she went, and began reaching ahead to grab the conduit housing that ran down the side wall of the ship's corridor.

She made it a few feet, pulling herself forward and pushing against the air coming at her. Her arms ached, but she was making progress.

The "only ever open in case of emergency" red box was up ahead on the opposite wall of the corridor. If she could just reach it she knew there was at least one re-breather in there. Oxygen would be amazing right now, not that there wasn't plenty of it flowing past her, it was just too little for her to use properly.

Almost level with the red box attached to the opposite wall, she hugged the conduit housing tightly and considered how best to get across to the red box without being flung down the corridor.

At which point the ship began tilting again.

The wall behind her began to become the floor, crushing her back against it, and the wall opposite, with the promised red box, started to become the ceiling.

She would have sworn, loudly, but she didn't risk losing time and air to it. All she could do was wedge herself against the furthest edge of the conduit junction box on the wall/floor and breathe as best she could.

But the world was swimming; she was in trouble if she didn't get to that re-breather soon. The fact that she was still alive meant there was enough air moving past her to keep her vaguely breathing. However, there wasn't enough air for her to function properly and her body was close to losing consciousness in a primitive attempt to conserve oxygen and resources. If that happened then she was history. She'd be blown down the corridor and then down the last corridor and likely out into space. If she was lucky she'd still be unconscious when her lungs and tissues froze in space.

Fortunately, the ship began tilting back to normal again, the ceiling above her rocking down slowly back to its usual role as the far wall. She had no more choices, she had to risk it.

As the floor became floor again, she got a grip of the conduit behind her and stretched out, into the tunnelling wind, towards the far wall and the red box protruding from it.

She stretched every millimetre her body could stretch, and, for the first time in her life, she was desperately grateful for her Glisi heritage. Her long arms spread across the howling corridor, one foot wedged halfway across, and her fingertips grazed the surface of the red box.

Grazing wasn't good enough though. She had only one choice, she had to just go for it and fling herself towards the box, hoping to get a good enough grip on it before the air forced her away from it.

There were literal black spots in her vision as she threw caution away and leapt.

She made it across the corridor, wrapping her arms around the red box like it was everything she could ever want in life, which was actually a very accurate description right now. Turning her back to the wind, she worked the small inset handle on the box and the wind blew the door open for her. It bounced open violently, revealing the array of emergency equipment inside.

She grabbed at the small oxygen tank and its straps, roughly turning the valve and pressing the small clear mask against her face. Glorious air blew over her nose and mouth and she drank it in, filling her lungs to the maximum, yet desperately aware that there wasn't going to be much in this small tank.

Her head was instantly clearer as she pulled the straps of the mask over her head with one hand, keeping a hold on the box with her other arm and one knee. The mask in place, she slung the one long strap of the tank over her head and around one shoulder. As she did, she noticed a dial on the tank.

The useful, yet depressing, dial showed a needle that was slowly moving through a blue zone towards a red zone. The needle was moving a little too fast for Seeal's liking.

She needed to get off this level, get up one of those concealed escape ladders to the next floor.

The lights abruptly flickered around her, dying and then flickering alive again.

That wasn't good.

She held still, wrapped around the red box. Her heart was pounding while she tried not to breathe too fast. She only had so much air and losing it to fear wasn't going to help her if that robot was nearby.

She looked down the short length of the corridor ahead of her, the far end of which met the corridor the bomb and the robot had last been in.

Surely the thing had been destroyed with its own bomb...or at least thrown out into space?

She watched the end of the corridor, the way still empty, as she reached into the red box and pulled out the single gun stored inside.

She lifted the weapon up so that she could see it in her peripheral vision rather than pull her eyes away from the length of the corridor.

The gun was a projectile weapon and was fully loaded. She recognised the Litan design – they were good small weapons that had a lot of power for its size. She shifted one finger to find the switch that released it from its safety setting, all while keeping her eyes forward.

She worked to keep her breathing slow and steady as she ran her eyes over the walls of the corridor in view in hopes of recognising an escape panel. She was almost certain they were near the transporters...

The lights flickered violently around her again and then died completely, dropping her into complete darkness.

Dull emergency lighting flickered into the black, glowing faintly and unsteadily around her.

She had to move; she couldn't stay here and just wait for her oxygen to run out.

The decision was taken away from her though as the wall just down to her left exploded outwards.

A long metal arm and claws smashed through the wall like it was kindling, like it was paper falling down around the thing.

The claws slashed into the other wall, barely a metre away from her, and buried deep.

All caution of before gone, Seeal scrambled back away from the red box and the onslaught, wrestling herself back along the wall conduit, and lifted her weapon.

She fired as the rest of the robot split out of the wall, another claw-ended metal arm reaching towards her.

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The scalpel nicked another millimetre of flesh away from the back of the tumour, rocking the deadly lump further away from the back of Dr Watson's lung.

Carson paused to breathe for a moment, reaching up to wipe at his face. He'd resorted to wiping his forehead, because it was better to be able to see right now. His nurse had wiped away the worst for him initially, but now she was focused on carefully adding another piece of gauze to soak up the growing pool of blood around the partially excised tumour. Normally Carson would have more tools in place and less gauze, but right now they had to work quickly and nervously.

Carson was feeling beyond uncomfortable. His body was soaked through under his scrubs and his skin was starting to sting in places. He couldn't lose focus though, but never before had he been in such a tentative and frightening position.

He'd stood in battle alongside soldiers, looking after devastating wounds and easing the end of life for others. He'd heard weapons fire impacting near him, he'd even been hurt himself in such situations, both on Earth and on alien planets, but never had he felt so alone, so nervously living on the edge as he did right now.

Each micrometre of movement from the tumour made his stomach tighten. He felt nauseous from the tension and his eyes stung from staring so intently at his work. Forcing himself to blink rapidly to moisturise his eyes, he looked back at the Ancient scanner screen, reassessing the tumour.

He had no idea how much time had passed, no idea if he'd been at this for minutes or hours. All that mattered was the tumour and watching Dr Watson's stats.

A distant rumble was a moment's distraction, but almost immediately Carson refocused on the scan. The tumour was almost free. But when it was free, would that trigger it? He had no idea.

It didn't matter; all that mattered right now was making the quickest but safest incisions. He lowered the scalpel back into the tight confined space which was his deadly focus.

The rumble repeated in the distance, the latest in a series, and his nurse looked away worriedly.

"That sounded closer," she uttered softly, as if just speaking too loud might set of the tumour. Carson wondered if it would.

He nodded in response, but he didn't really care. His radio link was out of his ear, so he couldn't hear what might be happening elsewhere in the city, but it didn't matter. All he needed to focus on was saving this man's life, and maybe many more with it.

He carefully withdrew the latest piece of saturated gauze and set it aside with the others, only to realise that he could hear something new.

He froze, eyes latched onto the bloodied and almost sectioned away tumour. Nothing had changed.

But –

"Doc?" A voice shouted through the open doorway behind Carson.

"What the-?" Carson swung round, his scalpel fortunately nowhere near the tumour.

Colonel Sumner strode into view, pausing at the entrance into the OR.

"How did you-?" Carson began through his damp mask. "You can't come in here, it's a clean room," he added hurriedly, fearing the Colonel was here to drag him away from Dr Watson.

"I'll stay here," Sumner stated from the doorway. "Get that thing out of him now," he added jabbing a long finger towards the unconscious Dr Watson.

"I'm almost done," Carson explained, still confused, but absurdly annoyed at the Colonel's sudden and unexpected arrival. He turned back to his patient, turning his back on the rude interruption. "How did you get in here?" He demanded.

"I've found that there isn't much that a block of C4 can't deal with," Sumner answered smugly.

Carson had to work not to roll his eyes as he worked. What kind of man used explosives to break into a place with an unstable bomb ready to go off at any moment? "If this thing goes, then it's your own damn fault for being here."

"Just do your thing, Doc, we're setting up an ordinance disposal unit in the next room down. The second you get that thing out of him you pass it to my man, understood?"

Carson gritted his teeth at the order. "Aye," he muttered, aware of the sounds of Sumner's people moving around outside the door, their voices muted, but they carried loud to Carson's oversensitive ears.

He needed to focus, and having these extra nearby lives hanging on the edge of his knife wasn't helping.

He took another breath and reassessed the tumour in the scan and what he saw in front of him. Extra bleeding had begun with both him and his nurse distracted, even for only a moment. He quickly added more gauze, nervously pushing gently at the tumour, sweat dripping from his forehead as outside he heard a slightly squeaky wheel being rolled down the corridor.

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John had been in some terrifying situations before, but never had he experienced something as physically petrifying as the roaring pummelling of the tornado as it hit.

It was as if the world around him was shaking and tearing itself apart. The only security in it all was the massive bridge support behind which he and Teyla were cowering. Teyla was pressed tightly against him, one of her arms around one side of the support and her other arm tight around his back. He in turn had one arm around the other side of the support and his other arm around Teyla, the two of them plastered to the oddly warm metal pylon.

There was nothing that they could do but hold on and pray they made it through this madness.

The high side of the riverbed was behind them, the support they were huddled behind was the last across the bed, and with a bridge this high surely the supports were buried nice and deep.

High above, he heard and felt a sudden massive rumble, the vibration echoing down through his skeleton and shaking the support against him. Another noise among the howling struck loud and violently, ear-splitting in every way.

John pressed against Teyla and the support even tighter, hugging them both for dear life.

Dust and unseen stuff coursed against his back and the side of his mask, obscuring everything as he risked turning his head to look out past the side of the massive support.

The tornado was a dancing spinning devouring thing only metres away, eating its way across the riverbed, heading straight for the bridge.

As he watched, he saw planks sailing around it, twisted metal, bricks, and what looked like a body-shaped shadow, spinning, flinging, and coming right at him and Teyla.

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The robot filled the corridor, bursting out and towards Seeal, a set of long claws flying at her, looking to spear her through.

Firing at the thing, she had to drop to her back on the floor. A claw smashed into the wall where she had just been, pieces of the wall powdering down over her. Her shots did nothing to stop the robot though, they just added a few tiny dents to the front of the massive metal thing coming at her. Having seen the extra large weapons Tyoosi had started using on the floor above it was obvious to her that her small weapon wasn't going to do anything to save her.

Unfortunately, away from any secure hold, the air behind her began forcing her down the corridor, right at the robot's body. She kicked at its front, not sure if it had eyes or anything like that, but she kicked with her weighted heels and, turning the gun round, she sat up and hammered the butt of it into the front of the robot repeatedly.

The reaction was more than she expected. The thing pulled back, shifting away, a metal limb skimming against her side, just shy of cutting into her flesh.

And then the Sythus started to roll again.

Gravity pulled with an undeniable force back towards the side wall again, but half of that wall was now missing after the robot had crashed through it. As the large mass of the robot hit what was left of the wall, the partition began collapsed under the weight.

Finding herself flung down onto the front of the robot, she dropped her useless Litan gun and desperately grabbed hold of the base of the robot's two closest long arms to stop herself from sliding away under the belly of the thing towards the collapsing wall.

She felt the robot flailing for a hold in the corridor to keep it from falling down into the next room, its long limbs sailing wide to wedge itself in place. Hanging onto the thing for dear life, Seeal looked around for some way to jump off the robot before it fell down the rest of the way into the room below the collapsing wall.

Only her gaze stopped as she found herself looking along the thing's back. A long, thick-edged seam rang down the robot's back, and she recalled that Oneakka and Si had stopped the smaller version of this thing by prising open the back seam and cutting into it. If she could get this seam open she could stop this thing...

Reaching down her own body pressed against the metal of the robot, she slid her fingers into her right boot with practised ease and drew out her knife. Swinging it up, over and down, she stabbed the sharp point at the seam with as much force as she could muster right now. All her anger and fury powered a repeat action and the tip of the blade stuck into the seam.

Delight burst through her at that tiny victory, but almost immediately the robot reacted, one metal arm sailing at her, smacking her off it and back up into the corridor. She hit the wall, or rather the former floor, and scrabbled for a purchase to stop herself from falling back down towards the robot beneath her, its metal arms swinging up at her, sharp claws intent on her.

Except, in batting her off its back, the robot had lost some of its purchase and had shifted its weight so that the remains of the wall under it now fully collapsed. The robot dropped, the odd new angle of gravity drawing it down into the next room, its long metal arms swinging around desperately for something to stop its descent.

Seeal was more interested in stopping her own fall. Only, the floor was all she had, and there was nothing to help her. Clawing at the worn carpet, she was slipping back down, air pushing at her and gravity pulling at her. It was only the lip of the bottom of the former wall under her boot tips that paused her fall, but she could feel it giving away.

If she survived this, she was going to have some very strong words for whoever was in charge of the construction of the internal walls of this ship!

She reached both ways across the floor she was spread against, hoping to wedge herself in place, but the piece of wall gave way under her toes and she dropped, bouncing and sliding down into the next room below her.

Sliding now down that room's floor, she began her grabbing flailing routine again, only to bang into and off a fixed piece of furniture. Normally fixed to the floor, which was now the wall Seeal was sliding down, the chair or couch had only served to put a dent in her backside.

Her resulting tumble tipped her down and she found herself once again landing on the front of the robot. It had stopped its own descent further down into the room by wedging its long limbs wide across the width of the room. Unfortunately, her arrival onto it had shifted it and it shook itself, working to dislodge her. She began sliding down its metal back, and it was her own knife, still buried in the seam down the robot's back, that saved her.

Her hand wrapped around the knife handle, stopping her fall, she grabbed up at the base of a metal limb protruding out of the back of the robot with her other hand.

Hanging in midair, dangling off the back of the robot, she panted into the rushing air, her mask having been knocked off her face. She was once again breathing only the thinnest of air.

A loud cracking noise stopped her worrying about that right now though. She looked off towards one side wall, where one set of sharp metal claws was buried in the wall, to see cracks spreading, widening. Another creaking sound echoed up from under the robot and she felt it slip a few feet.

Seeal twisted and looked downwards, seeing that two long limbs were supporting the weight of the robot against the floor below them – or rather what was once a wall, but gravity was pulling them towards like it was a floor. The problem was clear. The floor/wall below them was clearly compromised by the previous explosion and there was a large hole already in it.

Seeal watched in horror as cracks began spreading out from that hole. The robot shuddered and dropped a few feet, then another few, as its too sharp claws couldn't hold it up across the width of the room.

However, it was the floor/wall under them that was the real worry, as the cracks in the already blackened and damaged wall began to form into sections that dropped away into the room below.

As more began falling away, the hole widening fast below them, Seeal was afforded one of the most terrifying views she had ever seen.

The room below had been the one where the bomb had been attached to the far corner, which was obvious from both the blackened twisted walls, and the fact that the furthest wall was completely missing! She could literally see space out at the end of the room below, and through that view she saw weapons fire in all directions, saw a Wraith fighter blaze past, and other ships fighting in the distance. And it was all only one room's drop away.

And there was nothing to save her from falling out there but this damn robot.

She wasn't having that.

Looking around her desperately, she looked for a way out of this mess, all while the robot slid a little further down towards the collapsing floor/wall below. As she looked down at the crumbing structure, she spied a doorway in it off to the right. She knew from the corridor above that the doorframes on this ship were damn strong. As the floor/wall was cracking apart, the door and its frame looked strong. If she could get down to it, it might be her only chance to stop herself falling into the next room and from there out into the cold death of space.

She didn't even stop to think.

She pulled her boots up to her chest, set them against the back of the robot and thrust herself back and away from it, sailing away in a large back-flip that she prayed would take her where she was aiming.

It was easier than she had expected, with both the air whistling down and gravity drawing her down that way anyway, she hit the closed door in a crouch and slumped down onto it securely. Taking the moment to grab at her mask fallen around her neck, she pulled it back over her face and looked up as the robot finally lost its hold and began falling down past her into the room below.

Only its front long limbs were still swinging as it disappeared down into the hole beside the door she was lying on. As a limb crashed against the side of the frame, abruptly the door under Seeal slid open within the frame.

Screaming into the nightmare she was living, Seeal turned, grabbing at the now open doorframe, getting her arms caught over the frame to stop her fall through it.

Panting, she hung in place, her heart hammering, her legs swinging free down into the room below.

She realised as she panted that the air in the mask wasn't flowing so well anymore, she was starting to get lightheaded again. Turning her head as best she could, she spied the edge of the tank at her side and the dial showed the needle was in the red zone. Not quite at the bottom yet, but getting far too damn close.

Hopefully she had enough to pull herself up on the doorframe and find a way...

Which was when something snaked around her ankle.

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TBC


	49. Desperate Escape

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**Chapter 49 – Desperate Escape**

Sam stepped back from the computers in the Control Room with a burst of frustration. She had hurried up here with Rodney some time ago, Rodney's lab no place from which to govern the situation any longer.

"What's going on, Colonel?" She called into her radio.

"He's still working on Watson," Sumner replied instantly. "We're holding a position far enough away.

"From the estimates we've run up here-" she started.

"I ran," Rodney corrected from the seat in front of her. He was hunched over a laptop with worried nervous tension.

She glared briefly at the back of his head, but continued to Sumner "We estimate that we could likely lose the outer wall of the OR level."

"We've got enough walls between us and them for now," Sumner replied. "I've got my best man at the door ready to take the explosive off the Doc. I'll tell you the second it happens."

Sam paced behind Rodney's and Fletcher's chairs and then back the other way again. Her eyes moving over all the screens, all which showed various predictions of the explosions, a count down on one, and another displayed the incoming reports from various departments. The last screen displayed the programme still running to break through Carson's code, which was useless now. Sam reached out and killed the programme, jabbing the button harder than was necessary.

Sumner hadn't asked for permission to start using C4 to break into the OR level, and after this was all over, she was going to have some strict conversations with the Colonel and Carson about the chain of damn command.

She paced back to behind Rodney's chair.

She glanced over the scans of the city on another screen. Fortunately, Carson's lockdown had been governed by an Earth programme into the Ancient systems, so when Sumner had broken the lockdown with explosives, the city hadn't gone into full emergency lockdown. That was at least, for now, a positive to hold onto.

There was going to be some major repair work after this though, for not only was there the explosive damage down by the gym from the first bomb, but Sumner had blasted his way through four Ancient doors to get through to Carson.

Sam paced back to another screen, checking the countdown again, and then back behind Rodney.

"Will you stop that!" Rodney protested over his shoulder.

"How long is this going to take?" Sam answered though, reaching forward to lean one hand against the console beside Rodney's laptop.

"It's been nine minutes and thirteen seconds," Rodney supplied unhelpfully since the time was displayed on the screen.

How could it only have been nine minutes?!

"Come on, Carson," Sam whispered as if saying it would help.

Damn it, she hated being up here and away from where she could actually be part of helping the situation.

Jack had used to bitch about moments like this when he had become a General, and though she had appreciated it had been difficult for him, it was only after she had become Commander of Atlantis that she had truly understood the frustrating sense of uselessness.

"He said it could take ten minutes," Rodney muttered towards the laptop as a few more seconds passed towards ten minutes. "He should stop if he reaches ten minutes."

Sam ignored the suggestion, just watched the seconds passing.

"It could ignite any second," Rodney informed them all again, for perhaps the hundredth time in the last nine minutes and twenty-one seconds.

All they could do was watch and wait.

"Come on, Carson," Sam whispered with continuing frustration and fear. "Come on."

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The whole bridge support was vibrating against John as the tornado reached them. High overhead, John watched in horror through his dust peppered mask as all the planks across the bridge visibly shook and rattled in their slots. Through several missing plank sized holes, John could see the dark orange and purple sky high above them, and watched as lightening flashed across it.

Great, just great, because things needed to get worse!

Wasn't this whole bridge made of metal?

Would the Elite atmospheric suits protect him and Teyla from an electric shock as they did against Wraith stunners?

How the hell had he gotten himself in this situation?!

The tornado finally hit the bridge and if John had thought it windy before, it was nothing now.

He and Teyla were abruptly shoved full bodily from their hold, thrown from the back of the support down into the thick muddy riverbed at its foot. It was at least a soft and cushioned landing, but they couldn't stay there.

Pulling his mask out of the mud and desperately reaching for Teyla's weight against him, he dug an elbow into the mud and started to crawl the tiny distance back towards the bridge support. This time he aimed for the side of the support, which provided more protection against the wind's new angle of attack.

Teyla was holding onto him tightly from behind, so with both hands free, he crawled forward and reached out and up for the bridge support, feeling the wind pummelling over him and Teyla. Dust and something hard hit his right arm, but skidded away over his shoulder and nothing hurt, so he pushed up on his knees and got a muddy glove to the support and then the other one, trusting Teyla to keep hold of him in turn.

The wind was unbelievable and just reaching the tiny distance to the bridge support was something close to a miracle, but John got there. In a half knelt half sprawled position, he flattening his front against the side of the bridge support and wrapped his arms around it as far as they could reach, like he was worshipping a tree.

Teyla was pressed tightly against his back, her arms around his middle and her body tucked against him and his backpack. He could feel her mask pressed in against the back of his shoulder as she clung to him, and he clung on to the bridge support for the both of them.

He wanted to help her hold on, to grip her to him, but he couldn't risk letting go, the wind was too strong. Now further around behind the side of the support, there was faintly more protection for him and Teyla, but that didn't stop the winds.

The sound was unbelievable, like a roaring, terrorising monster that was devouring the world around him. Everything was shaking, everything was madness, and all he could do was cling tightly to the bridge, constantly aware of Teyla's arms around him and fearing at any second that they would loosen.

00000

The gravity began shifting again just as Oneakka arrived on level 7.

"Power failing, we're losing front lateral stabilisers again," Halling shouted into Oneakka's earpiece.

He didn't need telling though, because people around him were falling away, the corridor abruptly tilting down to form a tower. The crowded corridor meant that there were a lot of people suddenly desperately grabbing the walls for purchase, and a few didn't get one in time and tumbled downwards. As expected, the crew caught those falling, the extra numbers lining the walls working to help wedge each other in place.

Oneakka had gotten an immediate secure hold on a conduit junction box and had set one boot on a ledge along one wall. Looking down the corridor that was now a tower, he finally got his first view of one of the new larger robots.

Tyoosi had not been exaggerating when he had described it as filling the corridor. However, that extra mass was currently working against the immobilised lump of metal, as it was slowly sliding down the corridor, its overweight size taking parts of walls and former corners with it.

It had been incapacitated, but the lights around the people-lined corridor began flickering. Whether that was due to this robot on level 7 reinitialising or if it was being caused by a possible robot on the level below was still unclear.

The answer came quickly.

"It's reinitialising!" Someone shouted from further down one packed wall of security personnel. "Massive power disruption."

"Fire on it!" Tyoosi shouted from further down the tower, and Oneakka angled his head to see the Security Lead leaning out from his own purchase on a wall. A group of personnel with large projectile weapons began firing down at the robot that was slowly slipping down the corridor, its huge size preventing it from falling away too fast.

Oneakka spied Lieutenant Ford among the group firing. "Tyoosi!" Oneakka shouted loudly down the corridor, and various faces turned up towards him.

Tyoosi looked up and round. "Honoured Elite," he called back in the pause before the next round of firing.

"Flush it out into space," Oneakka ordered. "The fighters can blast it apart out there."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Tyoosi agreed. "Fire again, get teams down there," he shouted to his troops lining the corridor walls. Fire peppered down on the robot gradually slipping down the tower. Tyoosi looked back up the tower. "Is there a confirmed robot on level 6?" He shouted between the shots.

"Unconfirmed," Oneakka shouted back as he climbed down the wall, personnel getting out of his way without request. "I'm going down there to find out. Get teams out on the hull now, we need the breach sealed."

"Yes, Honoured Elite," Tyoosi shouted back and then began barking out orders to his people. Oneakka barely paid any attention, as he had reached his target escape hatch.

"I want those space suits on in two and no excuses," Tyoosi hollered as Oneakka reached the hatch. It was open, which was probably because this was the hatch Seeal and her team had used to get down to level 6.

"We need crews out on the hull on level 6 right now!" Tyoosi' orders flew around Oneakka and also through the radio piece in his ear. "Fire again! Break that corner away!" Tyoosi shouted and fire blasted down the corridor as Oneakka leant into the open hatch to see that the inner seal hatch over the escape shaft had closed down to level 6, which confirmed the level was vented to space.

He pulled his head back out into the corridor. "I need a tank now," he shouted and then set about climbing into the hatchway.

Due to the strange current tilt of gravity level 6 was not 'below' level 7, but alongside it and the seal hatch was on the wall to Oneakka rather than beneath him. Elite training and battle involved working in many strange and demanding locations, as well as zero-gravity, so the strange angle didn't slow Oneakka in the slightest. He'd worked in far worse situations and been victorious.

Someone filled the hatchway from the corridor, leaning in with his requested portable air tank. "Honoured Elite," the woman offered it to him.

Oneakka nodded as he pulled the straps of the medium sized tank around him, settling its weight against his back.

"Close this seal hatch once I'm through," he ordered as he turned the air valve and pulled the clear mask over his nose and mouth.

"Do you need-?" The woman started to ask, but Oneakka triggered open the seal down to level 6. Air immediately began rushing past him out of level 7 towards level 6, again confirming that it was open to space.

With the unnatural angle of gravity, the escape shaft was now a strangely angled corridor ahead of him, the ladder rungs uselessly lining a side wall.

Oneakka triggered his link earpiece as he climbed inside, moving down the side wall of the shaft that was currently the floor. "Heading down to level 6," he announced for Halling, but he didn't wait for a response. With the loud whistling of air around him it would have been difficult to hear one anyway.

As he scurried, slightly sliding, down the corridor tunnel, the hatch above slid shut as he had ordered; this cut away the flickering illumination of level 7 above and stopped the air whistling around him and left him in an abrupt silence. He kept his radio link only on the agreed emergency channel so that he could listen clearly to the environment he was climbing into.

The hatchway into level 6 was open and was currently on the side wall of the escape shaft. Leaning against the wall, Oneakka peered through the hatch and into the corridor outside it, which instantly informed him how close the hatch had been to the blast of the bomb. As with level 7, there was one long corridor on the other side of the hatch, which was currently tilted downwards so that it was more akin to a tower. To the right and below him, the walls of the corridor were blackened, warped and broken apart in places, and the far end was completely missing. He could literally see the battle outside with his own eyes through the gaping hole.

He triggered his radio alive again. "I've reached level 6. The far end of the corridor is missing. We need those emergency crews out on the hull now."

Climbing up onto the lip of the hatch, Oneakka reached up and out to find a handhold on the wall above him. The air was a weak but present force pushing against him as he hauled his body up and out of the hatchway onto level 6 and began climbing up the corridor tower. Ahead and above him there appeared to be no bomb damage, which implied that the explosion had been directed outward, designed to take out the wall of the ship.

As he climbed, the emergency lighting was flickering around him, the power struggling, which implied a robot was close. But, was it due to the level 7 robot reinitialising or was there another robot down here too?

He kept climbing, using the wall conduit housing as his ladder, setting his boots carefully and ready for any more shifts in gravity.

The lights began flickering more violently and his radio buzzed with static interference in his ear.

"...lateral side," Halling's voice was barely audible in Oneakka's earpiece. "Its...interfering with...power...engine one block."

Oneakka grunted at the unhelpful news. "Where's the robot?" He shouted back.

"...undes..." Halling's response came back, but it was completely overridden with static and the noise of the rushing air around Oneakka.

Grunting with annoyance, Oneakka kept climbing, up towards a junction to another corridor ahead.

He wore six weapons, but only three were not energy weapons that he could use on the robot, if there was one...

A sudden dramatically loud crashing sound shook the wall under Oneakka's hands. He froze and listened as the sound increased. It sounded like part of the ship was collapsing, literal structural collapse, and it was coming from the other side of the far wall of the corridor tower.

If she was still alive, then she would likely be right up and personal to such sounds of destruction...if she hadn't caused them herself.

Bracing his boots against the wall he had been climbing, Oneakka launched himself across the gulf of the corridor towards the far wall and the sounds of mayhem unfolding.

00000

The howling whistling mass of the tornado filled John's being, and he couldn't imagine hearing anything else ever again. It vibrated through his entire body, churning his stomach and tightening every single muscle and sinew in his body as he clung to the bridge support.

His eyes tightly shut and the top of his mask pressed to the metal support, he felt something bounce off his shoulder and something else clipping the side of his mask, but he couldn't risk freeing a hand to protect himself, all he could do was shift his bodyweight a little further to the left, maybe a little further out of the storm's rush.

He felt Teyla's weight move with him, aware that her body was an anchor for him as much as he was for her, holding them to safety.

Panting into his mask, finding himself praying to a God he barely believed in anymore, he desperately-

Abruptly the pressure began to lift, the press against his right side easing.

He opened his eyes carefully, even though they were in the protective shelter of his mask, and looked to his right. Dust and mud obscured his side view, but he could feel the difference to the world around him. The bridge support was still shaking, but only slightly, there being slight pauses in between the shakes.

Teyla slowly shifted against his back, her body lifting from its tight hug against him, and he almost protested, told her to hang onto him. But, he could feel her lift her head and look off to the right. He shifted his head round against the support, his neck aching and his shoulders so tense that he couldn't imagine them ever coming down from his ears again.

The front of his mask was clear so, as he turned his head, he had a clear view of the back end of the tornado moving away down the riverbed and eating up the far side of the embankment.

Teyla's arms slid from their tight hold around him, pressing against his upper back as she got up.

Part of him wanted to stay right where he was, primitive instinct telling him he had been safe there and so why move? But move he did.

It took a beat longer than expected for his arms to release their death grip from around the bridge support though, and he peeled them away with wincing aches and pains.

Teyla's hand on his shoulder rang with her voice over the radio. "Tornado is moving across the far bank."

"We're moving out...Transport incoming," Seifer shouted back into John's ear.

"We need to move!" Teyla added, her hand on his shoulder now gripping, pulling. "John, are you hurt?"

"No, I'm good," he managed to reply, his voice sounding strained to his own ears as he struggled to get up in the gravelly mud. One boot slipped, but he got upright with protesting muscles and turned to look at Teyla.

One side of her suit was coated in drying mud and a ton of red dust had stuck to her, but she looked okay.

"You okay?" He asked her to be sure, running his eyes over her even while they hurried away from the bridge support.

"I am fine, we need to move," she repeated as she ran towards the nearby embankment.

"Moving is good," John muttered as he forced his still aching tense body into motion. Some aches from his tumble down the embankment with the Wraith earlier were making themselves known again, but nothing felt broken, though one ankle was seriously aching. He could run though, well, a fast limping run, but he caught up with Teyla as she reached the base of the high side of the riverbed.

The bridge had smaller supports up the side here, and there were a ton of the bridge's metal planks buried deep into the mud bank. Teyla began climbing the rubble like it was a bizarre ladder, pausing and looking back for him, reaching out towards him.

He grabbed at the offered hand, climbing up next to her, working against mud, unstable planks, and a desperation that was now obvious in his earpiece.

"...Wraith incoming," Inifee's voice was now part of the conversation. "I'm approaching...vector...six on my tail."

"...get up here!"

"No Wraith..."

John scrambled faster after Teyla as they reached the base of a small bridge support. She slipped slightly, so John reached out and pressed both his hands against her back, giving her the support she needed.

Not far above her, two masks appeared over the top of the embankment, hands reaching down. The rest of the team.

"There are more Wraith incoming on foot," Teyla shouted breathlessly over the radio. "I am sensing at least three close by."

"We need to move!" Seifer shouted again.

Yeah, because John wasn't all for that, but clambering out of a muddy riverbed takes more time than you think.

With more shoving, climbing, and slipping, Teyla reached up high enough to be helped up by the two remaining security personnel in the team. John watched as she was helped up and over the lip of the embankment out of sight, and then he focused on getting his own ass up the way she had gone.

As he managed to get part way up, he felt the change in the air. The wind was picking up again. He didn't look round, didn't dare, he just scrambled up towards the three gloved hands now reaching down to help him up.

He got hold of one and the others latched onto his arm, wrenching him up with some pain through his shoulder and arm, but he didn't mind, because suddenly he was up out of the riverbed and on some wonderfully solid ground again.

He collapsed forward onto his knees and took some deep breaths. Hands patted his shoulders and one remained, presumably Teyla.

He glanced round to see her indeed knelt next to him, her suit battered and mudded, with that spiderweb of fractures across one corner of her mask.

He wanted to say something smart, maybe offer a Die Hard style joke, but he was too tired.

"We need to move!" Seifer shouted loudly in John's right ear and Teyla shot upright. Her hand on his shoulder tightened, demanding he move with her.

With a burst of energy that he didn't know he had left, John managed to get up and push himself into a running rush after her. He almost slipped over once, a boot clogged up with mud under him, but he managed to right himself and keep following Teyla.

As he did, he started to look around, get his bearings again.

Seifer was ahead of them, looking back the way they had come, his gun raised and firing.

Overhead something buzzed and Teyla shifting sideways abruptly to avoid a sudden burst of Wraith transporter beam that blazed down the roadway.

John didn't have a gun left, had nothing but his eyes to watch the chaos. The two security personnel fired up at the Dart as it flew past, but it was the flash of energy fire that pounded into the Dart's backside that did the real damage.

John looked back over his shoulder to see the Elite shuttle rushing overhead, blasting the Dart into a ball of fire as it sped away.

"Get inside!" Inifee's voice commanded over the radio as John watched the shuttle pause in mid air, turn and begin to lower to the road ahead. The side hatch was opening, the security member inside appearing, waving one hand towards them and a holding a gun aloft in the other.

The shuttle was still half a metre off the ground when Teyla reached it, stretching up to the offered hand and pulling herself up into the shuttle with a grace and power that John deeply envied. But, not for long, because suddenly it was his turn.

Strained muscles and snug suit stretched as he reached up, getting one boot on the lower lip of the ship's hatch, and he was pulled roughly up inside.

He arrived into the shuttle none too elegantly, partly falling on Teyla as she tugged him inside, and a second later the next member of the team behind John was falling against his backside.

Scrambling to get out the way, John rolled and pulled his legs in, looking round to look out the open hatch. The last security member was climbing inside now, and outside Seifer was only feet away and blasting towards three Wraith running down the road towards them.

Beyond them, four Darts were banking round and heading back towards them, and further behind them, John saw two tornados eating their way across the landscape.

00000

The robot's limb felt disgusting chilled as it wrapped tightly around Seeal's ankle, it's squeezing hold terrifying, like some sort of sea monster's tendril wrapping irrevocably around her to pull her down into the cold depths.

Okay, she needed to stop panicking. Panic wasn't going to help.

She barely had enough oxygen left as it was-

The limb around her ankle suddenly became a serious weight, and in one tug her arms were pulled over the doorframe and she was falling through it again. Grasping desperately at the frame, she managed to catch the edge in her hands, stopping her fall.

Gripping the doorframe tightly, she was dangling freely from the lone metal frame of the doorway above her. Either side of the frame, the walls had completely crumbled away now, leaving only the metal girders top and bottom stretching away in either direction. If she could get up onto the frame, she could follow a metal girder to get away, but with the robot hanging off her like some sort of-

The thing's weight abruptly increased, dragging on her ankle, trying to pull her down or itself up.

Stupidly, she looked down her body at it, past her belly, her one free leg and one caught in the snake-like wrapping of a long metal limb.

The robot was halfway down the room below her, its other legs spread towards two walls, wedging itself in place, but it was stuck there. The walls that it was trying to hold onto were, as they had in the room above, starting to break apart. With the bomb damage having already compromised so much, she could see the walls cracking faster, pieces of debris falling down past the robot and out into space below it.

That hole into space, that chasm, filled all that she could see below the robot. She could see stars sparkling out there, see ships fighting in the distance, and a sudden blast of a passing energy beam sliced past. She felt the Sythus shake and shudder a moment later.

Great, because that was what she needed.

Desperately, she looked back up at her hands. The cramping was almost overwhelming, stabbing pain lancing down her forearms and her shoulders were crying out. She didn't know how much longer she could hold on.

Her vision was already swimming, her head getting lighter. The mask was barely pushing any air against her face now; she was in serious trouble.

The robot's limb began to snake up her leg.

She kicked at it with her free foot, uncaring about the pull on her own hands now. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was kick herself in her own shin, the pain sharp and deep.

Crying out in furious pain and anger, she barely heard her own voice over throbbing pain and her heart hammering in her chest.

The Sythus shuddered again, no doubt the Wraith were targeting the damaged ship. Why was it listing on its side in the first place? Where was help? Why was the damn bloody robot even still alive?!

She tried to kick the limb off again, but the metal appendage just moved with her, easily ignoring her kicks and shakes. She gave up - if projectile weapons didn't do more than dent the thing, her weak oxygen-depleted kicks weren't going to do anything.

She looked around her for something else, anything to give her an idea about how to get out of this.

Her hands were getting so painful that they were numbing out and she knew that wasn't good. She looked up at their excessive whiteness, the blood all completely squeezed out. She couldn't hold on much longer, her fingers were already starting to slip against the metal frame.

The robot's weight increased a fraction and she felt it slipping in the room below. Part of a wall below was giving way, she could hear it collapsing, but she couldn't do anything but stare up her at white knuckles, willing her fingers, hands, and shoulders to hold strong just a little longer.

What lights there were around the broken rooms above and below her were flickering and dying. The damn robot was draining power again, looking to power up to escape...yeah, escape by climbing up her like a ladder!

Watching her deadly pale hands, she knew every moment she held on was a desperate miracle, and she suspected the robot knew it too. It was probably powering up to sprint up, use her, maybe even her falling body, as a means up to reach the girders and pull itself up.

Another limb touched against her free leg, the closed claws snaking around her knee and then up around the side of her pelvis!

She cried out into her now useless mask, her vision dimming, as she squeezed her eyes shut against the madness of the uselessness that threatened to overwhelm her more than the pain. The robot was going to kill her saving itself and then it was going to climb up further into the ship and...

She opened her eyes to her white, seemingly distant knuckles, as a realisation hit her.

She was its lifeline. She was the robot's only way to save itself, and, once with a secure hold, it could then move up deeper into the ship to do more damage. Maybe plant another bomb somewhere.

The realisation was clear and suddenly the pain and desperation faded away.

It all seemed to make sense to her now.

She was holding on to save herself, but she was keeping the robot on the ship. If the robot fell now, there would be no way for it to save itself, and her body weight would help push it down and out of the Sythus. Then the thing's power drain would stop, the Sythus could reinitialise, or at least be safe from this robot.

She had wanted redemption and it suddenly all made clear and beautiful sense to her. The moment felt oddly peaceful in its finality.

She knew what she needed to do.

She had wanted a way to make up for what she had allowed to happen around her on Dreamstation, her clean slate.

Well, she could finally have that.

She was all that stood between this robot and the Sythus, the crew, and the Elite. Oneakka.

They wouldn't know what she had done, but that didn't matter.

She could help save them.

All it took was letting go.

She had always wanted to be free, truly free, and what could be more so than simply letting go and ensuring that she took this thing with her.

She focused up on her hands one last time, and closed her eyes.

She would miss out on things, but this act would matter. Her death would matter.

As the robot tugged its weight further up her body, pulling harder, she sent the message to her hands.

To let go. To just let go...

And they did.

0000  
TBC


	50. Chasing Twisters

**Note**: Hi guys, sorry for the long quiet spell – I had to have some dental surgery. All gone well, but it did involve quite a bit of stress beforehand and then quite a bit of pain and sleepless nights afterwards. Almost entirely healed up, but with that, and then catching a cold on top of it, I haven't been able to get the Muse working. She's back on the case now though ;) Here are two chapters to make up for it, and I will do my best to get back to my weekly updates, especially as we are on the end leg of this fic now (which only means I have to get started on the sequel!).

00000

**Chapter 50 – Chasing Twisters**

Twin bursts of bright weapons fire spat out from the lead two of the four Darts that were now heading down the length of the road towards the Elite shuttle.

John watched in slow motion horror as the weapons fire began tearing towards the shuttle. "Crap!" He heard himself swear inside his glass mask, but his ear was full of more useful chatter.

"Incoming weapons fire!" Inifee's voice announced with that recognisable tone of calm professionalism mixed with desperate worry. John knew that tone all too well.

"Return fire!" Teyla's voice ordered loudly whilst she was clabbering upright beside John. Two other team members followed her who, like John, had arrived into the back of the shuttle practically on their faces. The problem was that the side hatch of the shuttle was still open and Seifer was still down on the road outside, firing at the oncoming Wraith racing down the road at the shuttle, the Darts above and behind them.

All of this John processed in the second that the Dart fire blasted at the shuttle and in the moment before Inifee did what John would have done in the pilot seat. Inifee lifted and aggressively tilted the shuttle to allow the weapons fire to go by under its belly.

It was a good move, it worked, because the shuttle wasn't engulfed in fire or anything, the only problem was that the move was so sudden that no one had a handhold on anything.

John was aware of the other team members falling over, but, being the one still lying on his back on the shuttle floor, John was suddenly sliding towards the far side of the small shuttle. The far wall rushed at him, the shuttle tilting, crew crying out. Of course all John could focus on was getting his hands out ahead of him to stop his impending impact with the shuttle wall.

"Hold on!" Inifee's voice registered in John's ear as he hit the wall. His hands, knees, and one elbow caught the impact without any pain, but he was pinned there by the press of physics at work. The front of his mask was pressed hard against the wall, which at least left him space still to breath with the mask on, but he couldn't move.

He knew what Inifee was doing – he was turning the shuttle hard and fast on the spot, turning to avoid weapons fire and to get back round fast to allow Seifer inside the still open hatch.

Open hatch...

Inifee's turn completed abruptly. "Honoured Elite inside!" The pilot shouted, in what was probably the most aggressive order the pilot had ever given an Elite.

Which was when the shuttle tilted back the other way, angling down towards the road so that said Elite warrior could get inside.

Only John wasn't holding onto anything, was still on the floor, and that open hatch was behind him.

The slide back across the floor of the shuttle was a sudden rollercoaster road of fear for John. Instinctively he grabbed out in all directions, desperate for something to hold onto to stop his fall out of the shuttle, where he would fall some unknown distance down to where the Wraith would be waiting for him.

Except there was nothing around to grab, the floor was annoying clear of anything, except the boots and knees of the others in the background, none of them close enough for John to reach.

He felt his boots and legs slide over the edge of the open hatchway, the wild atmospheric pressure of Giant abruptly alive around him once more.

"John!" He heard Teyla shouting amongst Seifer and Inifee's voices, but John had no time to focus on any of it.

Except, finally, to the left of the hatchway, the end of the fixed seating brushed against his hip and he got his hands around the wonderfully secure leg of the seat. His fall stopped abruptly, half of him hanging out of the hatch in the air of Giant.

Turning just his head, John looked down the weird diagonal angle to see Seifer on the ground at what had to be two metres below. The Elite warrior fired off several more shots, turned and jumped up towards John and the hatch. One Elite gloved hand caught the underside of the hatchway's step, but he was still firing with his other hand, blasting at the Wraith. John was well aware of said Wraith because Wraith stunner fire had started hitting his protected suit the second he had fallen partway out of the shuttle.

"Tilt us back the other way!" John heard Teyla ordering.

Something blasting out from under the front of the shuttle, powering down the road, and behind him and Seifer John felt the hot rush of something exploding.

That didn't really help with the hanging on for dear life though.

Fortunately, the shuttle began turning again, finally tilting back the other way, but Seifer was too far down outside the shuttle for that to help him. But it made a difference for John; he was finally able to pull himself up and further into the hatch as the shuttle levelled out, getting his belly onto the floor. Scrabbling blindly with his boots, because he didn't know this damn ship, he got one boot and then the other on the lip of the hatchway's step outside and finally got most of himself into the shuttle. A shuttle that was now picking up speed away from the Wraith, the empty muddy riverbed rushing past beneath.

Now fully inside the shuttle, John turned and reached down for Seifer, grabbing hold of the Elite's closest shoulder. The warrior was still firing at the distant Wraith, even though he was hanging from only one handhold.

"Second tornado moving alongside the first!" registered over the radio in John's ear, and he looked up and out across Giant to see one of the tornados in question; It's width and power jaw dropping. It was moving through the far side of the abandoned stone built town beside the river, and the tiny dots flying around the twister like tiny pieces of paper had to be the stones, bricks, and mortar of the former buildings.

Still in his atmospheric suit and mask, John couldn't feel the air pressure against his face, but he could feel the wildness in the air again as he clung onto Seifer's shoulder. If reaching out the side of a moving space ship wasn't terrifying enough, the sense of the tornado so close caused that primitive fear to rise up again, telling him to get the hell out of dodge. Why the hell did he get himself into these situations?

The shuttle banked sharply and several blasts of Dart fire streaked past, the heat and brightness of them shocking as they raced away through the air. That seemed to get Seifer moving and he dropped his weapon, the gun freefalling down to the fast passing ground below, and finally got both hands on the lip of the hatch. John braced himself against the end of the shuttle's seats and pulled hard, helping Seifer up and into the hatch.

"Get us out of here!" Seifer grunted his order as he got inside, John pulling the man up and in, falling partly back himself in the effort. Seifer wasn't the largest of Elite but he wasn't light. Probably all hidden Elite muscle.

"Three more Wraith fighters incoming!" Inifee shouted whilst the shuttle shuddered abruptly with another sudden course correction and a possible light impact.

Back on his backside on the floor of the shuttle, John let go of Seifer as the warrior got his feet under him, reached up and slammed a hand onto the hatch's control. The hatch finally slid shut, sealing the crazy Giant atmosphere outside and allowing the shuttle to repressurise. It was only the new still calmness to the air that told John had windy the air had been even inside the shuttle.

The shuttle shuddered violently, this time from a definite impact, if John's experience told him anything. Looking up and round, John saw Teyla was stood at a control panel that had been opened from one wall. She was pressing controls set around a screen inside, which looked like Weapons control. Another team member was working at another panel, the man's feet set wide to brace himself in the shuddering shuttle.

The two other team members were sat away to the side though. One was slumped, their mask now off and their colleague was pressing a field dressing to a bleeding head wound. John knew head wounds could bleed like crazy, but it looked more like a concussion issue, but the guy was getting his first aid.

Which was when John realised that he was doing nothing to help out, just lying on the floor as everyone else worked.

Getting his somewhat achy legs under him, he knelt upright, keeping a steadying hand against those nice secure seats, and reached under his chin to release the seal on his mask. It released in an instant, that stretched tight feeling around his face disappearing in an instant, and he tugged the mask up and off his face.

The feel of the shuttle was almost a shock on his senses after having been inside the enclosed environment of the mask. The noise, the warmth of the air, and the mix of smells that he hadn't noticed earlier, all assaulted his awareness in a rush. He drew in a deep breath, drawing it all in for a moment as he carefully stood upright, his stance wide against the now constant shifting of the shuttle around him. Tucking the strap of his mask into the side of his holster belt, he made his way carefully past Teyla and the guy working on the weapons controls, and headed towards where he could be useful.

Seifer was stood braced behind Inifee's shoulder as John pushed past and sat down heavily into the empty co-pilot seat.

"How we doing?" He asked hurriedly as he ran his eyes over the displays and then the view outside.

"Oh, well enough," Inifee replied through clearly gritted teeth, and well he should. Out front one of the tornados filled the view entirely.

"Crap!" John muttered as took in the sight and the blips flashing on the screen in front of him. They were barely metres away from the side of the tornado! "We've got weapons fire incoming, four Darts on our tail, and a hell of a lot of debris."

"Yes, I had noticed," Inifee replied with what sounded like another one of his insistent smiles. "Work with your twelve point numbering system, tell me where the fighters are."

"Three are directly behind us, six o'clock, chasing us...around the tornado." John finally understood what Inifee was doing now. He was keeping in as tight and close to the tornado as he could, just keeping ahead of the Darts and using the twister as defence. Little weapons fire was going to hit them with so much outside to get in the way and disrupt the energy weapons...presumably.

"Where's the fourth one?" Inifee asked.

"Gone, something took it out," John reported as he watched the blip disappear. "Or maybe it got pulled in."

"Where is the second tornado?" Inifee asked.

John looked at the other screen and back to the first, and then out the front. "It's coming in from four/five o'clock. It's really big. I got a nice clear view of it out the hatch."

"They are on intercept course, likely to combine within moments," a voice from the back reported. "We need to get out of the area; mass tornados on Giant are beyond destructive."

"We could use some destruction right now," Inifee considered. "We need a clear path up and out of the area, so we need these fighters off our back."

"Bad news then," John had to add as he watched one screen. "Looks like another five, no eight, Darts incoming. Still some distance out."

"Transport Two has been keeping most of the Wraith distracted with an attack on their power siphoning centres," Inifee reported. "Guess some of them decided to break away and attack us for a change."

Outside the tornado was passing them, clear sky – if such a thing could be said about Giant's thick angry atmosphere – appearing to one side ahead. John peered into that distance, able to spot the small dark dots that were the incoming Wraith backup. "Here they come."

"Pull up a map of the two tornados for me," Inifee requested.

"Um," John looked at the screens, not sure how to do that for him.

One of Seifer's arms reached in and began pressing controls around a screen in front of Inifee. "The tornados are moments away from merging," the Elite noted the point and John thought he could hear real worry in the warrior's voice.

"Good," Inifee muttered as he glanced down at the screen displaying the terrain and the tornados, each a quick little glimpse as he focused on his flying.

John knew what he was going to do. It was crazy, dangerous, and most likely what John would do himself.

"Your timing is going to have to be perfect," John commented. "There's going to be some serious forces at work between the two columns."

"The ship can take it," Inifee replied calmly as he shifted their course, taking them back to hugging close to the 'smaller' tornado again, taking them around the back of the thing.

"Are you...?" Seifer began to ask, worried for sure now.

"Everyone needs a secure hold," Inifee announced loudly. "Prepare for full battle and thrust."

Seifer muttered something behind John's right shoulder, but John didn't catch what he said, because John was too busy holding on and wishing he was the one at the controls.

"We're down to two Darts behind us, they've pulled back a fraction, but still hot on our tail," John reported. "Those incoming have now increased to ten and now coming in behind at seven o'clock to our position."

"Good," Inifee replied.

"Not sure that's the word I would use," John replied, but he understood why it was good for Inifee. All the Wraith were essentially behind them, so once the shuttle could sneak between the two about to merge tornados, they would have a completely free path on the other side.

If they weren't dragged in by one or both tornados, if they weren't destroyed by flying debris, or if the Wraith didn't get in a good shot at them from behind.

It was too late to worry about all that though. Out front, Inifee had hugged the way round to the side of the tornado, fighting the overwhelming forces of the twister to keep the shuttle on course. Ahead, the larger tornado was moving in sideways, the opening between the two twisters clear ahead, but the corridor was fast narrowing as the columns moved parallel and ever closer to merging.

"Increase power to all engines for me," Inifee ordered and John quickly went through the motions, part of him doubting everything he was doing, but he remembered the protocol. The new power prepped he threw the main switch to deliver it to all the engines at once and the affect was immediate.

The shuttle powered forward, Inifee adding more and more, raising their speed to the limit. John grabbed a tight hold on the front of the console in front of him. He understood everything Inifee was doing, was no doubt thinking everything Inifee was thinking, but unlike Inifee, John couldn't actually help. He desperately wanted to do something, to get his own hands on the controls, but he had to trust Inifee's skills. And damn weren't they amazing skills!

The shuttle rushed into the narrowing corridor that was their freedom from the Wraith behind them, but it was hardly a safe place to be.

The shuttle began to shake at a violent rate, everything rattling around John, but he kept his eyes forward, focused out front with quick checks of the screens. "I'm getting tons of interference on the scans, even on top of what Giant does. I think we've lost another Dart behind us. Some possible weapons fire, but it's not getting close," he reported over the loud rattling and someone swearing loudly in the back.

Things peppered against the outside of the hull above John, several large blocks of metal flying past the nose of the shuttle. Inifee lifted the shuttle a fraction, lifting them up out of the main focus of spewing tornado litter, but with two tornados, one on each side now, it was near impossible to avoid it all. They just had to get through as quickly as possible.

John gripped the console tighter.

"John?" Inifee asked tightly.

"Yeah?" John asked as he watched chaos ahead.

"Remember those red covered switches I showed you?"

John glanced at the pilot. "The 'never touch these' switches?"

"Those would be the ones," Inifee replied, his jaw was rigid and his concentration solely focused forward. "Get ready to press them all on my signal."

"Really?" John asked stupidly.

"Yes, please," Inifee replied.

John reached up to the switches in question, flicking back the protective covers, and lightly touching his gloved fingers to the switches.

"Just not until I say," Inifee added.

"Ready to go," John replied, glad to at least be in charge of doing something.

The available space ahead of the shuttle was almost gone, the sides of the tornadoes now meeting and as they did almost all the light was blocking out.

John clenched his own teeth, his neck and jaw hurting with the terrified tension.

And then abruptly the way ahead burst into a clear unobstructed view.

"Hold on!" Inifee shouted and pulled hard right.

John managed to stay in his seat, and to not accidently press the dangerous red switches, but he almost got a whiplash from the hard turn.

More swearing from back accompanied a cry and John thought he heard Seifer hit the floor behind the pilot seats. John simply focused on the view outside and the screen ahead of him, and keeping upright, as Inifee pulled a crazy turn up and round ahead of the big merging tornado.

"Wraith fighters?" Inifee's tight constricted voice asked.

John dropped his eyes back to the screen. "Nothing on sensors," he managed to utter with the tight turn.

"Get ready with those switches," Inifee added. "Hold on!" He shouted again. "Full thrust soon."

More swearing from the back was accompanied with some scrabbling sounds of someone moving, perhaps Seifer, though it was the first time John had heard an Elite talk that way.

"John, ready?" Inifee shouted. The shuttle was shaking again, the tornado filling the right side of the view again.

"Ready!" John shouted.

Inifee had taken them round the front of the now massive oncoming tornado, ensuring all of it was between then and the Wraith. Now was the time.

Inifee switched course, pulling the shuttle's nose up and away from the tornado, pointing it up towards the dark oppressive ceiling of orange clouds. "Now, John!"

John flicked all the switches and then the main control switch last.

As a pilot, John had been extremely fortunate to have had the chance to fly pretty much every type of flying bucket Earth had produced, as well as possibly more alien craft than anyone else from Earth had flown, but in all that experience, he'd never had the chance to be on a rocket on takeoff.

Today he found out what it felt like for real outside of a simulator.

The power that thrust the Elite shuttle up from beside the tornado and up through the clouds was unlike anything John had experienced before.

To say that he was forced back into his seat didn't even vaguely describe the overwhelming and undeniable crush that merged his spine with the cushioning. His lungs lost all their air and any ability to draw in any replacement, and he felt his body react in ways he couldn't factor. Having what experience he did, he knew the speed at which the shuttle shot up through the clouds would kill without the superior dampeners on the ship.

Part of him couldn't believe this was happening as, in what seemed like an instant, through which his body fought to keep conscious, he saw the clouds part and the shuttle arrive up in orbit above Giant.

From above the ground to orbit in seconds!

The thrust eased in a smooth sudden decline, but even with such control, John gasped loudly for breath and heard someone gagging in the back and someone coughing.

"Transport One, this is Transport Two," arrived loudly through the unseen speakers around John.

"Transport One here," Inifee replied, sounding completely normal as everyone else gasped and spluttered.

"Exit vector 3, repeat, exit vector three," the unseen voice ordered.

"Understood, proceeding now," Inifee replied as he flicked switches, turning the shuttle and powered them back into the crazy colours of the nebula surrounding Giant. Back inside its protection, they were out of sight of the Wraith, finally.

The strange colours filled the view as John continued to breathe in as much oxygen as he could and process what had just happened.

It had been unbelievable!

Looking down at the screens in front of him, he worked to sound experienced as he announced, "Only reading Transport Two at five o'clock," he stated, but he could hear that he was still winded.

"Excellent," Inifee replied calmly.

John turned his head and looked at Inifee with what he knew was an open jawed stare.

Inifee looked round and grinned widely. "Welcome to flying with the Elite."

John let out a shocked laughing breath as he nodded his agreement. "Wow," he muttered.

Inifee's smile shifted as he looked down at John's suit. "What happened to you?" he asked.

John looked down at himself to remember that his suit was all muddied and was caked with Giant's red dust. "Oh you know, day at the spa," he joked.

Aware of movement behind the pilot section, John turned to look back to see if Teyla was okay. His view was limited, but he could see her stood beside Seifer, the two of them looking like they had just picked themselves up from the floor. Teyla's mask was off, her hair hanging around her face again, her face intact and with a healthy glow.

Seifer moved forward, blocking John's view though, so he focused forward.

"Transport Two?" Seifer asked into the air as he retook his position behind Inifee's shoulder.

"Transport Two, here," Si' voice replied from the ether this time. "Casualties?"

"We lost Mo, and Keit has a small head injury, nothing requiring immediate attention," Seifer replied. John wondered if Keit felt the same about that assessment. "You?"

"All intact," Si replied. "We destroyed one of their main power distribution hubs on the surface, but five minutes ago they began a full scale evacuation of the planet. Headed off into the nebula at 358872."

"Towards The Nest?" Teyla asked.

"Just behind it if they hold course," Si replied.

"Sending in support or joining a mass evacuation from The Nest," Seifer concluded. "The mission was a success, but we need to head in to assist the Fleet, take out any Wraith heading in for support."

"Agreed," Si replied. "This vector will take us towards the far quadrant of The Nest system."

"To more victory," Seifer stated.

"Agreed," Si repeated, but John heard something about the unseen man's tone.

Seifer turned and moved away, and John shifted his attention to Inifee as the man flicked a switch, presumably to cut off the communications.

Inifee glanced at John, sensing his attention.

"How far away are we from The Nest?" John asked. Though willing to help out some more, the prospect of heading into another full scale battle wasn't all that welcoming.

"Too far out," Inifee replied quietly. "We're hours away. By the time we reach The Nest, one side will have been victorious."

John met the man's eyes and nodded. He understood. They were headed in towards the massive raging battle out there, but by the time they got there to help, they might only find some very angry Wraith waiting for them. Probably looking for some revenge.

They could only hope that the Alliance was winning the battle.

Because otherwise, this whole mission wouldn't be worth much...

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	51. Falling

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**Chapter 51 – Falling**

The sounds of destruction drew Oneakka in like the hunter he was, but unlike normal, a sense of panic was mixed in with it all. It drove him on faster as he pulled his bodyweight up easily to access a side corridor.

With the ship on its side, the former side wall of the corridor was now its floor, and down its long length, Oneakka could see the location of the destruction for himself.

Whole sections of the wall, now floor, were missing, and across the corridor, the ceiling revealed big holes of destruction.

The robot had definitely been here.

Oneakka got his boots onto the wall that was the floor and ran towards the open section ahead. As he raced closer, he spotted the door of an emergency box hanging open.

Had it been her? Or someone else from her team? Or another crewmember unfortunate enough to have been in this section?

Another crashing sound split the air as Oneakka arrived at the edge of the section of missing wall, and he looked down to see the madness below.

The robot was indeed here and it had done an exceptional job at destroying this section of the Sythus.

Oneakka had seen the Sythus in dock during its construction, when it had been the barest of bones, and now, once again, the bare girders and floor plating was all that was left of the sections below him. With the new sideways pull of gravity, everything the robot had torn away had fallen down through the destroyed rooms and out through the massive gaping hole in the side of the ship.

Yet, between that horrifying wide and twisted hole to space, the thin remains of a wall hung in the way, with the long grey girders of the top and bottom of the former wall and the protruding rectangle of metal that outlined the former door through that wall.

And in that rectangle, hanging on by the barest of fingertips, hung Seeal.

The relief in seeing her was overwhelmingly superseded by Oneakka's assessment of her situation.

The long metal limbs of the robot were just about visible below Seeal at this angle, and he saw her drop slightly, saw her face contort in pain.

The robot was hanging onto her, stopping itself from falling out into space and if it climbed her like a ladder, it would probably result in her losing her grip.

Swinging his legs over the weak section of wall, Oneakka assessed the limited options down to her, whilst he simultaneously jabbed at his radio link.

"Robot confirmed level 6," he shouted through his mask and against the rush of weak air still trying to ventilate this level. "Located just inside breach site. Seeal is engaged with it. Get hull teams in place with weapons, and a fighter in place outside."

A crackling faint burst of a possible voice and static was his reply. With a grunt he jabbed the link closed, but he was out of time anyway.

His position was not directly above where Seeal was hanging, so he had to not only get down the length of missing room, but across to her as well.

The floor plating was still in place at least and was all he had to work with, but it was currently a steep wall. It did at least have several pieces of fixed furniture on the way down, which would be useful to stop himself from sliding down and out past Seeal and the robot and out into the vacuum beyond.

He scanned the furniture, only one piece was in the way and useful perhaps to slow his fall.

His eyes snapped back to Seeal, focusing on her face as best he could at this height.

He saw her looking up from the robot, her eyes wide and wild as they focused back up on her hands. At this angle she couldn't see him up here, probably wouldn't have the time or focus to notice him even if he was right above her.

She was in trouble, serious trouble. Metal limbs swung out and around her again, their path blocked from Oneakka's view, but he saw Seeal's grip slip a little further.

Pushing himself over the lip of his entrance into the section, Oneakka threw shoulder and hip against the former floor and let the altered gravity pull him down to where he wanted to go.

The trip was rough and fast, but with one arm stretched out he was able to control his speed a little, but the fixed piece of furniture that was his target came up harder and faster than he had counted on.

His boots hit it, one skidded off, but he re-angled his body so that his stomach landed on what turned out to be a large couch chair. It wasn't all that soft, since all the cushioning had been blown out into space, but the metal box frame was still in place.

Somewhat winded, but intact, Oneakka pulled himself up onto the chair frame and looked down over the edge.

He was only a metre or two away from the doorframe, Seeal's body swinging as she fought and kicked the robot climbing her. She was pale and he realised that her oxygen mask was hanging aside useless. She was out of oxygen too!

Crouching up onto the chair frame, Oneakka assessed his route to her.

The girders were literally all that was left of the former wall below – one top, one bottom, and Seeal's frame.

There wasn't much to support his size and enable him to pull her up.

If he took on the robot first? No, it was too close to her and would likely tear her free of the frame if injured.

His eyes snapped back to his limited view of her face, and paused.

Her eyes, fixed on her hands, had changed. Her face had slackened, a strange and terrifying look of peace spreading over her features.

It was an expression that Oneakka had seen before, far too many times. It was an expression that haunted him.

It was the expression that he had seen on the faces of those who knew they had nothing left, who had only their own body to throw before the fire, to stand in front of those they loved, or to block the way for others to escape. It was the face that he had seen on too many of his own colleagues, and on countless of unnamed brave and honourable that he had seen fall in the way of the Wraith.

Oneakka didn't think anymore; he knew he had no time as she began to close her eyes.

He braced and threw himself off the chair frame and down towards the thick metal frame of the doorway.

Across that distance, in the flying eternal instant, he was aware that she had let go of the frame.

He hit the corner of the frame and threw his weight down, aiming his left side to land along the floor girder at the base of the doorframe, while he reached down through the frame with his right arm.

He caught her wrist in the same moment that his body hit the frame and his breath was grunted out of him hard.

But, Seeal's fall halted in a snap of an instant.

He saw her dark eyes fly open, her mouth wide in shock, and her face deathly pale as she stared up at him.

He had caught her, but what now. The weight of her was little to Oneakka – it was the robot hanging off her that was the problem.

With one arm bracing him against the girder and his other holding her up, he had no free hand to deal with the robot.

He needed her up and holding the frame again, then he could fire down on the thing that had at least slithered down her body again.

He heard himself growl loudly as he pulled on Seeal and the robot, pulling their weight up just enough for him to get her back up to the level of the frame. Where, if she had some power left in her, she could hang on while he dealt with the robot.

Another burst of effort and he got her up through the frame, except, as always, she suddenly did something he didn't expect.

She reached up and roughly tugged one of his holstered guns off his hip, and with a pulling swinging motion, she twisted and pointed the weapon down at the robot wrapped around her legs.

He heard and felt the rapid shots, but saw the error. She had an energy weapon, not a projectile weapon that might actually do some damage to the robot.

Except, the robot reacted violently beneath them, which resulted in wrestling tugging on Oneakka's arm. Looking down, he instantly saw the target of Seeal's repeated weapons blasts.

Buried in the back of the robot, down that central seam the other smaller version had had, a familiar knife handle was just visible. Her boot knife. She must have buried it in there while fighting the robot earlier.

She fired again, the energy blasting into the conductive metal knife and into the seam.

The robot shook, like a seizure hit it as Seeal fired again.

Oneakka saw the instant the back seam broke open, saw several of the robot's limbs go limp, and it fell.

Oneakka watched as the robot dropped, saw it twisting as it did, a couple of still working limbs desperately flailing around to stop its fall.

Only, through that view, his own gun dropped as well.

Seeal's weight had abruptly slackened, her body hanging loosely in his grip.

She'd lost consciousness...or worse.

He pulled her up easily now, up through the frame and up against his middle. There was nowhere to lay her to assess her vitals though, there was just the girders, so he turned on his side, pressed between girder and floor plating, freeing up his other arm to wrap around her and hold her up.

She was completely slack.

Holding her enough to stop either of them from falling, he wrenched his oxygen mask off his head and pressed the plastic mask over her nose and mouth, hoping that she was just unconscious, that the air pressure from the mask would push enough into her lungs to be all that was needed.

He had no space or time to give her breath or chest compressions.

The ship shuddered suddenly against Oneakka, and he looked down without thinking, to see that the robot was wedged just inside the gaping hole in the side of the Sythus. The damn thing was still holding on with its few remaining working limbs.

Except, a burst of bright fire lit up behind it – someone was firing on it from the other side.

Which meant the teams were out there and/or a fighter was firing on the robot finally.

Which meant he and Seeal were dangerously close.

He needed to move them...now!

Another burst of fire below lit up his view of Seeal hugged up against his middle, her legs still hanging through the frame.

In the blazing light show, he saw her eyelids moving fainting above the oxygen mask, and he could now faintly feel her chest moving against his middle.

She was breathing.

One of her hands pressed to the mask, holding it to her, and her eyes flickered open a little further.

A renewed burst of relief gave him all he needed. He sat up on the girder, bursts of red and white below getting warmer. Moving fast and without thinking too much about how dangerous the situation was, he pushed himself up against the frame. Sat up, he pushed her over his shoulder and forced his body to stand up.

Using the floor/wall as his only support, he got upright, Seeal draped over his shoulder, and he started along the base girder.

Aware of a disgruntled punch to his backside by his unhappy passenger, she was at least holding onto him, drinking in oxygen from the tank, which was quite up close and personal to her right now. Trusting her to hold onto him, he used both hands to balance his weight one side and do his best to hold onto the floor/wall as he ran towards the far remaining corner of the room.

Another round of crashing chaos echoed up from below, and he was aware of Seeal bracing against his back as she watched what was happening below, but he focused on getting them out of here.

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The sweat was thick and uncomfortable again over Carson's face. He had stopped worrying about it now, just let it drop and dribble down his temples and cheeks.

He was moments away from getting the tumour out.

Just moments away.

One more tiny nick of the scalpel and it would be free.

Blinking carefully, the sweat threatening to stick his eyelashes together, he took another calming breath. Well, it wasn't calming really, but it helped him with his control and concentration.

He touched the sharp blade to the area of flesh he needed to cut away last. It was more human than tumour, but it was better to remove too much. That had been his thought throughout this op. As dangerous as this op would be in this area of the body anyway, it was nothing compared to working this quick and with an explosive involved.

He licked his lips nervously as he pressed the knife in deeper, cutting through the tiny remaining piece of tissue.

Then the tumour was free, sudden simply sitting in the carefully steadied medical forceps that supported it.

Carson let out a breath gently, his eyes never leaving the tumour.

Nothing exploded.

Glancing to his left, checking the Ancient scanner one last time, he confirmed that the tumour was indeed free.

Moving with extreme caution, his experienced hands shaking, he lifted the tumour out of his patient.

Keeping his eyes on the bloodied tumour as he lifted it, holding it away from himself, he turned towards the organ transport box sat open a tiny distance away.

He stepped towards it, the tremor in his hands making the tumour shake as he lowered the deadly thing down into the plastic box. The box would do nothing to protect anyone, but it felt best to have the tumour in something ready to be passed to the ordinance man standing in the doorway behind Carson.

Moving millimetre by millimetre, Carson lowered the tumour into the box, down onto the soft wadding that they had lined the box with.

Carefully, he slowly opened the forceps, letting the tumour settle and sit alone in the bottom of the box.

The instant it did, he withdrew the forceps and set them side. The tumour was out, but the explosives could still go at any moment. Moving carefully, Carson moved around the box and carefully reached for the lid.

"The tumour is out," his nurse called in a low voice across to the waiting disposal man.

Carson didn't look up, just focused on very carefully sliding the lid over the tumour with his bloodied gloves.

The moment it was closed, he let out a more calming breath and looked up towards the ordinance man moving towards him.

The man was dressed in full bomb disposal gear. At any other time, Carson might have made some comment about being in a scene from the Hurt Locker, but right now that was too close to reality.

"Good work, Doc," the man said as he reached the other side of the table and reached for the closed box. "Get your people out of here now. Colonel Sumner," he added into the air, "the tumour has been removed and I am taking possession now."

Carson opened his mouth to say that his patient still needed to be closed, but then changed his mind, as the man had more important issues.

Carson stepped back a pace as the padded man set his thick gloves to the sides of the organ transplant box.

"You need to get out of here, Doc," the man repeated a second time before he carefully lifted the box.

Carson found that his eyes were locked on the box as it was raised. The man turned, carefully, completely round back towards the open doorway through which Carson could now see a large metal box was stood waiting just outside.

Carson watched transfixed for a moment as the thickly dressed man moved surprisingly quickly away towards that doorway.

There was nothing else Carson could do, except to continue to look after his patient.

Moving back towards his nurse, Carson reached up to his ear piece and triggered open the radio for the first time in what felt like forever. "Beckett here," he reported with a very dry voice. "I've made the hand over, we need to close up, so we're going to move Dr Watson now."

It went against everything in him to move a patient in this state, but there was no good saving the man's life from the tumour inside him and then leaving him in the blast radius.

Moving around his patient, Carson reached towards-

The burst of light and pressure was so sudden that it barely registered to Carson. All he was aware of was the sensation of flying, of his body being thrown away like it was simply a dried leaf on a powerful wind.

Except the flight didn't last, something hard crushed into him, breaking and pounding against him, smashing against his head and obliterating everything but the burning scent of flesh and fabric.

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	52. Unexpected Outcomes

**Note**: Thank you for the lovely reviews for the last two chapters. Yes, the tooth issue is so much better, but it was a difficult operation for the surgeon and I was warned it could be a prolonged recovery. Fortunately the body heals :) As promised, I am back to my weekly postings, and offer two new chapters for this evening/weekend. Anybody been missing some angst?...

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**Chapter 52 – Unexpected Outcomes**

Central Station hung below Halling, the crew now managing with growing experience at the sideways angle, though some stations were almost impossible to work at as they were currently on the ceiling.

Lying along the top of the tactical display console, which was usually the side of the table, Halling had a secure position from which he could work, but it was hardly comfortable.

The Sythus' power disruption was fast being corrected, but with the remaining lateral stabilisers still unpowered due to the interference from the remaining robot, the ship was still hanging sideways.

Halling had switched central control of the battle outside over to the Ballista as soon as the explosion had taken out part of the Sythus' lower side. Listing still on her side, the ship had become a weakened and vulnerable target in the midst of the battle raging throughout the system.

Except, glancing across the screens of the tactical display, which were currently below him and he was reading them with his head hanging down over the edge of the console, it appeared that the outcome of the battle outside was clear.

Only three of the Nest's Hives had survived, two of which had managed to escape the system, one because it had already been on the far side of the system when the battle had begun and had sneaked quickly out. The third Hive still remained in the system and was running for the border, but all scans reported by the Fleet ships told Halling that the hulking ship would not make it out of the former Nest. It was on fire, its engines were running at critical, and all its fighters had abandoned it.

The Fleet had secured all the moons and planets in the system, most of which were still ablaze following the explosions from the EM field generators. Any Wraith still on the planetary surfaces were being dealt with, and ground crews would ensure no Wraith were hidden below ground. The Nest was the Alliance's, the battle was essentially won.

It had gone just as the best realistic predictions had suggested, though admittedly the Elite had not factored in the possibility of robots storming through the Sythus!

Halling pulled his eyes from the Fleet's reports, content for now that the Sythus was not going to be targeted by any stray Wraith. If any tried, there was a defensive line of fighters holding position around the Sythus, and another line of ships further out that would pick off anything that might try to reach the Sythus.

It was strangely going well beyond the Sythus' hull, inside it though...

Oneakka's message had come in only moments ago, but it felt like a stretched painful lifetime for Halling.

With the remaining robot disrupting power distribution in the already severely damaged level 6, they had no sensor readings of what was going on inside that level.

It was only the external sensors of a fighter positioned now outside the hole in the side of the Sythus who had any intell from inside. The report had arrived that the robot had appeared just inside the breach site, and that two life signs had been detected further inside level 6, which was presumably Oneakka and Seeal.

The decision had been taken to order the fighter to open fire on the robot. It couldn't be allowed to continue to exist, disrupting the Sythus' power and preventing her from correcting the listing angle, and they couldn't risk the robot getting up inside the ship again, setting another bomb.

The order made sense, but Halling had hated it as it had flowed out of his mouth. Oneakka was in there with the robot, though hopefully moving away quickly!

"It's holding on," the fighter pilot's report crackled over the radio.

"Kill the thing!" Tyoosi put in harshly and angrily from his link into the communications.

"Do it," Halling agreed, whilst he watched the Sythus' own internal scan displays, willing information to start arriving from level 6, to reveal life signs having moved safely out of range.

"One leg detached," the pilot reported. "Some damage to Sythus."

"Just get it out of the ship!" Tyoosi put in. He had had the level 7 robot flushed out into space a short time ago and it had been satisfying to see the fighters destroy it. That the robots could be thoroughly destroyed.

"Robot is moving out onto the hull," The pilot reported, no agitation in his experienced voice.

Halling could feel the difference though, the Sythus was shifting slightly around him, presumably due to some power now reaching some of the lateral stabilisers.

"Robot detached," the pilot reported, this time with some pleasure in his voice. "Firing. Secondary lead, help me take out this thing."

"Yes, Commander," a second fighter pilot replied over the link, and Halling watched as another fighter moved towards the Sythus, moving in from another angle. Halling watched the tiny dot between them that would be the robot drifting away from the Sythus. Weapons were fired from both fighters and the dot was engulfed in energy readings that described the explosion in space. As it cleared, the dot was gone.

"Robot destroyed. Repeat, robot destroyed," the lead pilot reported with clear satisfaction. "Nothing but space dust."

"Power flow returning around breach site," a technician reported loudly in Central Station. "Intact lateral stabilisers are receiving power-"

The technician didn't need to add any more because Central Station began to right its angle around Halling. Gripping onto the side of the tactical display table, Halling held on as the floor became a floor again and stayed there. For a brief moment his inner ear had to readjust, but he could now breathe a sigh of relief.

Except they still hadn't heard from Oneakka.

"Repair crews get to that breach site," Tyoosi was ordering over the link, his voice less angry and more intent now. "I want a full inspection of the entire hull."

"We're not picking up anything on our sensors, Lead Tyoosi," the fighter Commander put in.

"Run a visual inspection over the hull from the outside," Halling requested the pilot.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," the pilot replied.

"Do you have readings on the lifesigns inside level 6?" He asked next.

"Honoured Elite Oneakka and Seeal are on level 7," Tyoosi was the one to reply though. "They've just come up through the seal hatch."

Relief was a hot wash over Halling's skin as he leant his hands on the edge of the display table. "Good. Oneakka?" He asked into the link, calling his friend.

There was a pause, presumably as Oneakka was either passed a new link or activated his own.

Or was he injured?

"Here," Oneakka's voice replied and Halling could tell instantly that his friend was strong and healthy. "We've on level 7, seal hatch in place. You can stop ventilation of level 6."

Halling looked round and nodded to the technician in position to do that but she was already nodding back to him.

"Done," Halling replied to Oneakka. "The level 6 robot has been destroyed and I have the fighter detail running a visual inspection of the entire outer hull in case there are more hiding unpowered."

"Good," Oneakka replied. He sounded slightly out of breath to Halling's ear.

"Are you injured?" Halling asked to be sure.

"No," Oneakka replied, his voice stronger. "Just a few lightheaded moments."

Halling smiled at that assessment, which likely meant that his friend had been completely out of oxygen. They had both been in such situations before.

"The battle?" Oneakka asked next, and Halling could hear the noise of plenty of activity behind Oneakka over the radio link.

"Ours. Last holdings are being dealt with," Halling reported as he ran his eyes over the incoming reports again, updating himself with the last few minutes of the battle. "Only two Hives escaped, a third is about to breach its engine. All moons and planets are held, and they have, as expected, found a concealed Portal on one planet. It has been secured."

He looked over more reports. "Only three Wraith Cruisers remain and all of them are overwhelmed in numbers by the Fleet. Numerous Wraith fighters escaped the System, but they won't get far," he added.

If the fighters didn't catch up with the two escaped Hives, the small ships wouldn't have enough power to make it to the closest planetary systems.

"Any reports of other robots among the Fleet?" Oneakka asked, his tone sounding slightly distracted.

"None," Halling replied instantly. "It seems almost certain that we picked them up from the collision with the Seed Ship."

"How is the Sythus?" Oneakka asked next, his breathing more even.

"We have extensive damage to levels 6 and 7-"

"You won't believe it when you see it," Oneakka put in.

"We have minor hull damage elsewhere from the battle, but the breach site is significant. We're going to need to be in repair dock for awhile."

Oneakka's reply was a dissatisfied grumbling noise. "Any news from Giant?" he then asked, though he had to know that was not yet possible.

"None, the nebula is too dense and the distance too far," Halling reminded him. "If they survived and are on their way here, they are still many hours out. We will not know until that time.

He had to hope that Teyla and the others lived, that they would emerge from the nebula later this evening. They had clearly been successful in their mission, but here was no way to know if they had made it off Giant.

"The battle here is won at least, and it has been a significant victory," Halling added.

"Good. I'll finish up with Tyoosi here and return to Central soon," Oneakka stated after a pause of noisy activity from his end of the link.

"No hurry," Halling replied as the link cut. There was plenty of work to be done on the Sythus.

He returned his attention to the displays.

Though the Sythus was severely damaged, it was repairable, and the Wraith Nest had been destroyed.

It had been a great victory.

And he was still alive.

The memory of Sitayi' stare have never left his awareness throughout the battle, but he had been able to ignore it. He had long years of experience in compartmentalising fear and doubt away when he needed to.

Except the battle was now passed and he was still here.

He ran his eyes over all the displays again, suspiciously fearing that there was something else about to strike and fulfil his nervous future prediction.

Nothing seemed worrying though; everything was under control on both the Sythus and among the Fleet. In fact the last of the Wraith Cruisers had just been destroyed.

The battle was won.

His death had not arrived this day as he had expected.

That fact should have been a relief; he should be feeling joyful gratitude at his continued existence. After all, he had faced near fatal situations before in battle and had felt as much, but this was different.

He ran his eyes over the displays again, once more confirming that all seem well. There was no apparent threat.

But he was still here.

Had he been mistaken about Sitayi' stare? Her regret and lingering fear in her eyes? The eyes of a Seer?

Had he misinterpreted her look?

These were the same questions from before the battle, his fears and worries reasserting themselves with renewed doubt.

What worried him especially about that was the strange new element of regret, as if he had wished he had faced his end...then he would know Sitayi' prediction was true and there would be no more doubting waiting. That he might face that moment and perhaps maybe survive, despite her apparent sadness.

Except, the most likely answer was that his death was not going to be in this battle...it was going to be somewhere else...somewhere soon?

The battle had been decisive, but it had not answered anything for him, had not resolved his questions or allayed his fears.

He hadn't died today, but then when?

00000

Oneakka brushed away the medic who attempted to offer him some more oxygen, and instead focused on Tyoosi as he approached.

"Hull repairs teams are assessing the damage now," Tyoosi reported. "We've got an extra breach site where the robots entered the hull, with damage to power, communications, and water supply through that section. The problem is the massive hole on level 6 which also includes some of level 5. The emergency force fields can't cover it."

"We need to patch it physically," an engineer replied from Oneakka's right. The man was one of Ru's top assistants and Oneakka had worked with the man a number of times.

"Do we have enough plating?" Oneakka asked.

"Just enough, but we have stores of spare metal sheeting left from the new engine installation. If we cut and double it, brace the plating as best we can, it should hold for us to get out of this sector."

"We'll need a space dock," Tyoosi considered.

"We're not all that far from the dock work completed on the new station at the edge of the Milioc system, just inside from Lantana," Curzon put in as he joined the huddle, arriving dressed in a space suit, minus the helmet, presumably ready to head out to work with the hull teams.

"Will that dock fit us?" Tyoosi asked.

"It'll work," the engineer replied. "We can't risk hyperspace with the patched side, we'll have to limp to the dock via sublight and hope the temporary plating will hold."

"How long will the patch take?" Curzon asked.

Oneakka did some mental calculations of his own as the engineer paused and replied. "I would say minimum two or three days."

Oneakka agreed, but believed it could be shortened. If they used all the crew they could, he would help, and when the others got back from Giant they could throw in as well. As long as they did return.

"This system is secure so far," Tyoosi put in. "We can hold position safely for now."

Oneakka nodded as he glanced away out of the huddle, looking down the corridor filled with the busy flow of people.

The medic was still with Seeal where she sat on the floor with her back against the wall, oxygen mask pressed to her face. The medic was crouched in front of her, and the body language of them both told Oneakka that Seeal was okay.

She looked exhausted, but she was breathing, was sat upright, and was clearly talking with the medic.

It took a lot to shut her up of course.

He had been in prolonged battle in an oxygen depleted state himself several times, so he knew what Seeal would be feeling. She would be tired and aching, her breathing uneven and she would be feeling the body's natural compulsion to lie down and rest in order to recover.

She could do that, but for now it was best that the medic observe her and ensure there had been no other damage. In some cases there was the concern of brain damage from oxygen deprivation, but considering the fact that Seeal had been well enough to order him to never "carry her like a bag again" whilst he had pushed her up through the seal hatch to level 7 and into waiting helpful hands, he had taken that as evidence that she was her usual self.

He had not agreed to her demand though, instead had left her to the medic's care.

He had been able to see her down the busy corridor though. Just beyond her the crew were working to repair the physical damage the level 7 robot had caused to the corridors. They were shoring up corners, repairing conduit wiring and piping, and some crew injuries were still being tended to. The corridors around him were alive with activity, and amongst it all, Seeal was sat with her medic.

He turned his attention back to Tyoosi.

"...several structural engineers, but the work will need to be in the dock," the Security Lead was saying. "We can use all the crew we can for the temporary work. We have a few severe injuries in the Healing Bay."

"Halling reports the Fleet have located and secured a Portal in the system," Oneakka put in. "Transport Craft will start collecting medical priorities to go through the Portal." It was standard procedure in secured systems at the outer borders of Alliance space. And today, Alliance space just got that much larger to now include this entire system and to have dealt the Wraith such a blow.

"I will organise names and if there is anyone we need to bring in to help us," Tyoosi suggested turning to the engineer. "Get Ru to give me names of anyone he needs."

"Yes, Tyoosi," the engineer put in. "I believe Ru has a plan on decontaminating the hull as well, in case there are more robot spores."

Oneakka almost wrinkled his nose at the term, but he was glancing away down the corridor again.

The medic had left Seeal. She was sat in the same, somewhat slumped, position on the floor against the wall, her head now back as she breathed in her oxygen. After what she had been through, that air would feel wonderful to her.

He suspected she had refused to go to the Healing Bay, which meant that she was well enough. She would not need to be ferried through the Portal to a proper medical facility.

If circumstances had been different, her body might have been sent back through it though. Though, thinking about it, had she been successful in her attempt to remove the robot from the Sythus by her sacrifice, then her body would have been lost out into the vacuum of space. There were always bodies left out in the vacuum after battles, their remains scooped up later, if they had not already been destroyed by passing weapons fire or burned up by entering a planetary atmosphere.

He found himself recalling her face as she had surrendered, as she had closed her eyes and had let go of life.

He had had his concerns about her for some time, despite his intuitive sense that she was essentially an honourable person. Yet, he hadn't been sure about her true nature, and since she was so mouthy and difficult, he hadn't been certain if her annoyingness irritating him had just been her attitude, or if she had some other agenda.

As the last few days had passed he had begun to see more and more evidence that she was trustworthy and in some ways reliable to do good work and actually be able to work as part of a team.

But what she had done on level 6...

She had been sacrificing herself. She had purposefully let go of that doorframe.

In that act, one which no one else would have overseen and she hadn't even known he had witnessed, she had revealed her true nature.

She was a true warrior, ready to sacrifice herself to protect those around her.

Pride and respect were a real physical presence in his chest as he watched her.

He had been right about her.

She was honourable, and she was a warrior down to her bones.

And he was pleased that he had been able to save her from her sacrifice, and that he had been able to bear witness to it.

Though, in recalling that moment of leaping down to the doorframe, of reaching through it for her as she fell, he was aware of the panic he had felt. It had been a deep, overwhelming feeling that he had felt only a few times in his life.

He had been desperate to catch her.

He had not caught all the people he had tried to 'catch' over the years, in whatever way they had sacrificed themselves or had had their lives taken from them. There were always too many to save.

But, he had caught her, and he felt a great relief in that fact.

The universe was better with her in it. She had proven herself, had become more than she had ever been before, had lifted herself out of the Wraith shit she had been living in. She was transforming her life and she had the chance now to live that life...for the Raven to fly free.

It was strangely moving for him.

He looked away from her still slightly pale profile, and returned his focus to Curzon and Tyoosi.

"If they are going to decontaminate the hull, best do it all before we leave this system," Curzon was saying.

"I will report back to Ru," the engineer agreed from beside Oneakka.

Oneakka turned to the man before the engineer could leave. "Tell Ru I will be by soon." He would review the power systems directly from the Lead Engineer, and see what state the ship was in for himself.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," the engineer nodded before he moved away down the corridor.

Oneakka turned to Curzon.

"I'll join the hull repairs," Curzon stated as he adjusted his suit. "I've drafted up all with hull work experience. They can at least help with the decontamination Ru has in mind."

Oneakka nodded.

"There better not be any more robot spores out there," Tyoosi uttered. He appeared to have taken the robots' presence quite personally.

"I'll report in once I'm out there," Curzon added as he moved away, an assistant following, carrying the suit's helmet.

Left with Tyoosi, the two of them stood in the middle of the busy corridor, Oneakka took another quick glance towards Seeal. She hadn't moved.

He suspected that she would be facing some interesting truths about herself.

You never returned from death's edge without it affecting you, especially when you had purposefully leapt into it.

He wondered if she regretted still being here. Sometimes survivors could feel that way.

"The Earthman did well," Tyoosi uttered, drawing Oneakka's attention back to him. Tyoosi was looking over his shoulder down the corridor towards where Oneakka could see Lieutenant Ford helping lift an injured crewman onto a stretcher.

He nodded to Tyoosi. "They seem to train them well," he commented.

Tyoosi glanced over his other shoulder, down towards where Seeal remained in her still position. Oneakka could see that her eyes were closed above the transparent oxygen mask.

"Surprises seem to be the way of things of late," Tyoosi commented. "She located and faced the last robot."

"Took it down mostly by herself," Oneakka informed him. "I got there just to pull her out."

Tyoosi met his gaze. Understanding from years working together made Oneakka satisfied that Tyoosi understood. Tyoosi nodded gravely. "We lost a good handful today, but it could have been much worse."

Oneakka agreed, and he knew that Seeal had once again helped reduce those casualty numbers. How strange it was that the former Security Lead of Dreamstation was now responsible for helping save lives in the Elite crew.

Though, her argument had always been that she had been working in Dreamstation to reduce the loss of life there. For the first time, he truly believed her.

It made him wonder what she had faced on that station and prior - the dangerous situations she had been in and of which few knew about. Now he knew what she was capable of, how much of a fighter she really was, he wondered what stories she could tell from her days on Dreamstation and from the pit fights.

It occurred to him how little he actually knew about her life. He knew perhaps more than most she had encountered, but that was hardly much. Just the barest bones of her life, but he had at least seen the deepest truth of her character.

Tyoosi' attention moved to over Oneakka's shoulder and he frowned. "No, those need to go up to level 8," he ordered someone. "Excuse me, Honoured Elite," he offered.

Oneakka nodded and waved him away, preferring the man get on with his work.

It left Oneakka the opportunity to finally check on Seeal himself.

He headed down the corridor towards her.

Her head remained back against the wall, her upper body slumped there. Her knees were up, one arm draped over one knee weakly, and between her boots laid the oxygen tank from which she was breathing. He suspected from her posture that if the wall were not there against her back, that she would lying on the floor beside the tank.

She needed to rest, but he needed to be sure she was alright, that she hadn't just scared off the medic without her receiving proper care.

He reached her and crouched down in front of her, keeping close to her raised knees so that he left space in the corridor behind him for the crew to pass. As he crouched down his knee brushed against hers and he saw her eyelids flutter open.

She still looked pale, but he suspected it was due more to exhaustion than any medical issue.

"At least now I know," he told her.

A more usual frown shifted her features, one dark eyebrow lifting questioningly.

"What it takes to make you stop talking," he explained. "Complete oxygen deprivation."

Her frown became a glare and he smiled back at her, suspecting that would annoy her more.

Her glare deepened, but she seemed to run out of energy in the middle of it and her expression returned to a sleepy frown.

"Thank you," she said as she lowered the oxygen mask. "For saving me."

He was a little surprised at that, but as much at her serious tone as the words.

"You're welcome," he replied with equal seriousness. "And don't think I didn't see what you did."

She frowned again, this time with seemingly honest confusion.

"Letting go to take the robot with you," he told her.

There was a brief look of nervous surprise across her tired features and she blinked a couple of times as her gaze shifted away. "Someone had to do something," she dismissed the brave act.

He wasn't going to let her get away with that. She could fall back on her dismissive casualness, but he could see through it for certain now.

"It will be noted officially," he told her.

She lifted her gaze back to his. "Good, because I can't keep saving this ship all by myself," she replied, her usual difficult attitude in full play again.

Normally such a comment from her would have irritated him, made him question the truth of her. Now though, he knew there was nothing worrying, that she just felt the need to hide behind her strong attitude. He imagined it had been dangerous to let on that she had a heart when she had worked on Dreamstation, when she had lived on the streets.

A flash of annoyance and anger moved through him, as had done whenever he had thought of her people and those who had likely tried to prey on her in the past. Of course they would all have discovered that Seeal wasn't anyone to be pushed around. She was a warrior who fought, who put others in their place.

The truth was clear to him now – he admired her. Despite his attempts not to before now, to focus on the fact that she had worked on the wrong side of law and honour, the truth was that she was impressive.

Today that had been made especially obvious to him.

And he accepted the truth of it. One warrior should always respect another, but he wasn't about to tell her that. It wouldn't do to engage too much into her need to play casual arrogance, and it wasn't part of the banter they had formed.

"It could help me clean my record sooner," she added since he hadn't answered her.

"Maybe," he responded, "if you _behave_," he added, playing his role in their banter, for her sake.

"I'll behave if you promise never to carry me like a sack over your shoulder again," she objected, frowning again, but he could see that she was more comfortable now they were off the subject of her sacrificing herself.

He reached the small distance between them and pushed her hand holding the oxygen mask back up towards her face. "It was efficient," he replied simply.

She glared at him as she held the mask back over her nose and mouth, her dark eyes watching him.

He steadfastly did not promise not to carry her that way again.

Her eyes narrowed as he remained quiet.

He realised, now so close to her, that there were a few tiny cuts across her forehead and down one temple, and that there was a light bruise forming over one of her high wide cheekbones. He focused on it, assessing the damage, not liking that he hadn't noticed the injury, as mild as it seemed.

The compulsion to reach out and touch her cheekbone was sudden and unexpected. The need to ensure that her skin was warm, that she would feel alive and safe, soft and beautiful-

The realisation of his thoughts hit him like a punch to the face, his heart skipping a beat and then hammering onward.

Like a veil had been stripped away, his attraction to her was abruptly, undeniably, obvious. The truth of it powered into him, laughing at his former denial and blind ignorance of his own feelings.

It was a strong attraction too, not just physical, but glowing with his new respect and deep relief at having seen her true character.

He snapped his eyes away from her cheek, only to find himself meeting her eyes, which seemed darker than usual.

They were very close to each other, with him essentially crouched between her raised knees, the inside of one grazing the outside of his knee. He could feel her body heat.

The air between them seemed to crackle alive with energy, with a connection that he could barely believe he hadn't noticed before now. Though, with hindsight, he realised that it had been there, growing, but now it was full force and powerful.

As if the world paused around him and Seeal, he found himself staring into her eyes, something new forming between them, that connection, a pathway between them that was now alive and undeniable.

He had never felt anything like it before, but it was somewhat familiar, and it was that familiarity that snapped him sharply back from the brink of whatever crazy pull she had on him.

The familiarity led his mind to traumatised memories of which he rarely touched in his thoughts.

He shot upright, putting physical distance between them in height at least.

He had no place for this.

Elite didn't have things like this. Elite lost things like this.

Like losing his entire planet, his whole world dying in pain, his heart broken, left as the very last of his people, last in the entire universe.

No, he didn't want this.

He blinked, trying to break the prolonged deep eye contact with her that he had for some reason maintained.

At which point he processed that she looked shocked as well. Her head was pulled back and her eyes were wild and wide as she stared up at him.

She felt the connection too...and she didn't like it either.

"Seeal!" Madesh abruptly appeared at Seeal's side, dropping down to the floor beside her, Oneakka not having registered his approach in any way.

"Seeal, are you alright?" Madesh asked her worriedly.

Seeal, appearing as surprised by the man's arrival as Oneakka, switched her gaze to Madesh instantly.

Oneakka wondered if she was as grateful as he was that Madesh had appeared to break the moment.

"I'm alright," she reassured Madesh, seeming slightly taken aback at Madesh's concern.

"I had thought you had died with the rest of the team that went down to level 6!" Madesh explained animatedly.

Madesh's hand was on Seeal's shoulder, his concern real and honest, well meant and caring.

Oneakka's gaze locked onto Madesh's hand touching her, the contact seeming so natural between them.

Aggressive resentment rose up fast and sudden in Oneakka's throat, and he had to force himself to look away to stop himself from removing the kind man's hand from her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Seeal was asking Madesh.

"Am _I_ alright?" Madesh scoffed away her question. "Why do you have oxygen? Are you injured?"

Oneakka clenched his teeth, superficially watching crew repairing some wiring a few feet away as he battled the maddeningly stupid compulsion to snap at Madesh, to tell him to move away from her and let her breathe.

He didn't need this kind of foolish reaction.

He dropped his attention down to Madesh. "Madesh, see that she gets to her bed, that she rests," he ordered, hearing the sharpness in his tone.

Madesh had snapped his attention instantly up away from Seeal. "Yes, of course, Honoured Elite," he promised earnestly.

Oneakka wanted to say something disparaging back, which was stupid, unfair, and just damn well crazy.

He turned to leave quickly, needing to put as much distance between him and Seeal, to let this moment of insanity just end.

Except, he found himself stopping and looking back down at her again.

"Make sure you rest," he ordered her forcefully before he strode off.

Annoyed, angry, and feeling completely unsure of himself, he barged down the corridor, crew scattering out of his way. He didn't run away from her, he was walking at a casual speed, but the distance was helping.

Madesh would take care of her; Oneakka could trust in the man to do that.

Oneakka had work to do, because there was no way he was going to go back to his quarters tonight where she would be sleeping. He couldn't anyway as there was far too much work to do on the damaged ship.

He would stay away, because he had things to do.

And there was no damn way he was going to give in to the urge to look back over his shoulder back down the corridor behind him. He didn't need to look at her again; he didn't need to be certain that she was properly using the oxygen mask.

Madesh would take care of her, and besides she was a grown woman, who was obviously more than capable of looking after herself.

She didn't need him and he certainly didn't need her.

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TBC


	53. In The Silence

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**Chapter 53 – In The Silence**

The back of the Transport Craft was unmoving around Teyla, the long hours of the trip through the nebula towards the Nest System providing adequate time for the team to sleep and recover. The lights lowered, it was mainly the unusual hues of the nebula through from the front that lit the interior of the Transport.

She glanced towards that front view, Inifee's shoulder just in view. He rarely slept on missions, and was quiet sat up there by himself. Only the faintest of bleeps and taps told of his working on the console in front of him. She had sat alongside him for a short time, filling the role of his co-pilot while the others slept, but he did not need her by his elbow. She was only a few feet away if he did need her assistance, and she knew he would only wish to converse if she sat by him. It was better that they both focus on their work, be restful and enjoy the silence.

Well, it was mostly silent. Seifer's snores were not overly loud and offensive, but they were constant. They were rhythmic and soft at least, and she had been able to long ago tune them out as she worked.

She had downloaded all the data that the Transport's sensors had captured from Giant and had written her report and analysis of the results. That work done, she had focused on detailing the scans of the Wraith structures on Giant. It was useful, but she had completed the main work and was now simply filling time.

She could sleep as well, wake someone else to sit with Inifee, but she was not tired enough and it was better for the others to sleep. She could function at an advanced level on far less sleep and had done so after far more exertion than she had experienced on Giant.

Except the mission on Giant had been exertion of another sort.

Lowering the computer linked tablet to her lap, she glanced across the dim coloured back space of the Transport Craft and settled her eyes on John as he slept.

Inifee had ordered John to sleep many hours ago. John had protested at first, feeling he should remain at his station. Inifee had explained it was expected to rotate round among the team to allow rest on such long travels, but it was only when Teyla had stepped up to take the co-pilot seat for John that her new husband had finally given into the rest that he clearly needed.

She had rested her hand on his shoulder as she had promised to take his position and wake him immediately should something happen. That had convinced him, as she had suspected it would, and he had retired to the back seats to sleep.

He had clearly been exhausted, as most of the team had been, though Keit more than the rest. She switched her attention from John to Keit briefly. She suspected Keit's head wound was not serious, but they had fitted a sensor band around his head to monitor him and wake him if necessary. A soft blue light glowed at the front of the band set around the man's bandaged forehead. If his neural activity and the blood flow through his brain altered significantly that light would change and a small shock of a tiny electric current would wake him. It was emergency technology designed for Elite when by themselves, but had been adopted for all head injuries when away from immediate medical care.

Satisfied that Keit was well for now, she returned her attention to John.

He had selected the far back corner of the seats for which to "have a short nap", as he had phrased it. That had been some four hours ago. He was slumped into the corner of the seats, his right cheek turned in and down into the cushioned seat back, his body partly curled up, though one leg hadn't been able to fit so was draped off the edge of the seating. One arm was wrapped around his middle and the other was pressed up against his side against the cushioned seats, the back of his knuckles tucked in against his chin as he slept.

His need for deep sleep was understandable – the mission on Giant had not been all that long, but it had been significant. He had survived a great deal and had been a formidable part of the team.

She knew that he had plenty of years' worth of experience in the battlefield, and she had fought alongside him previously, but she felt immensely proud of him today.

She had not doubted for a moment that he would prove himself to the rest of the team, and that he would play his part well, but she had not been so certain in her ability to be comfortable with his presence.

After all, her greatest fear of late had been the distraction of him to her warrior life, that his presence would make her react differently, perhaps put others at risk. That her feelings for him might lead her to make the wrong choices in order to put his safety over others.

Going into this mission she had known that it would challenge all of those fears, but she had included herself in his team in order to face those fears, to test herself. There had been a significant chance that he could have been hurt, or killed, in the mission and that had almost been the outcome. To recall that moment when she had seen him tackled by a Wraith off the side of the embankment, disappearing out of sight...it brought a chill to her now. Yet, through all that, she had kept her focus, had remained part of the team, and she had not lost her mind to desperation to save him and him alone.

Her greatest fears had not occurred, at least not on this mission.

He had not been the distraction she had felt he might have become for her. Of course she had been aware of where he had been at all times on the mission in ways she never was of other team members, but that was perhaps something of a benefit. Not knowing where he was might be more of a distraction.

In truth, the fears she had in this regard had no evidence in reality. She had never lost her focus in battle, had never been unprofessional, though had previously felt a rage and anger unlike any other when her family had been in danger. She had felt that today when the Wraith had pinned John to the riverbed. She had dealt with the situation though, had been victorious and had tapped into a powerful side of herself, which she had remembered using in her battle with Iketani.

But, it all went deeper than that. She had not been feeling quite herself since Kari' death. To lose a close colleague was hardly unusual for an Elite, but the Sythus crew had somehow managed to remain intact for a good number of years. Perhaps she had begun to feel she wouldn't lose anyone around her.

Then to know that had she personally been on the Sythus at the time of the Glisi mission, she knew she would have been on the team with Kari. She would then have sensed the Wraith presence on the Glisi world immediately, revealing the Wraith's then unknown involvement in the new Quantum. Kari would have been saved. But, instead Teyla had been in Atlantis, by her own choice, a choice motivated by maintaining good relations with Atlantis yes, but mainly because she had wanted to be near John.

That choice was what haunted her. Yet, the reality was that she, or any Seeker, couldn't be on every mission, there were too few of them. It was in no way protocol to have a Seeker on a mission. In fact, Si had been on the Sythus at that time so could have joined the team, but they had not known the Wraith would be waiting for them; no one could have known. It had always been believed that the Wraith truly did not visit the Glisi world.

Yet, as logical as those arguments seemed, that she was not to blame, she knew that she had been distracted and had made a choice to be in Atlantis for personal reasons.

Could that happen again?

Elite were discouraged from forming any emotional ties, though they formed strong bonds among their own number, and she could understand why now more than ever. The primary role of an Elite was to fight Wraith and hunt down the Queens; nothing else could enter into that view, that purpose. Such fundamentalist thinking gave the Elite their drive, their power, and, admittedly, their willingness to sacrifice their own lives more readily. It was a fact that was not discussed among the Elite, but it was still true enough.

Her plan had therefore been to distance herself from John, after all they had agreed it would only be a short-lived affair, and she had planned to return her sole focus to her Elite work.

Her decision to enter into a Political Marriage had felt like a logical point from there, enabling her to do something lasting for her people – both Elite, Athosian, and for the greater unity of the Alliance.

Except that too had not worked out as she had planned. Instead she had found herself stood with only one suitor, Maloo, from a world she felt ambivalent about, and with a man who she barely knew and suspected she would never like.

And John had stepped in to save her and politically use the situation to his own people's advantage.

Selecting John had been the most logical political thing to do, but, as much as she had hated to admit it at the time, it had also indeed saved her from an emotional situation she hadn't wanted with Maloo.

Again, she had placed her emotional self first. John had presented an alternative that was in all ways preferable, only it meant that her fears and the distraction of him remained unresolved. Instead she had made her life harder for herself in many ways.

But, selecting him as her Political Husband had been a wise choice for the Alliance, for the Elite and for Father and her people. Her marriage could alter the political structure of the Alliance and the battle against the Wraith in significant ways that would never have been possible with the Genii.

It had been the right choice. Today's mission had proven that, at least so far, she could cope with John in her Elite life. It was her pride and self-doubt, her annoyance at the situation, and her now discovered emotional needs that had angered her. She had taken it out on John, and she felt quite shameful of it.

It was not how an Elite warrior should behave, yet it was perhaps rather Athosian of her. She smiled faintly to herself as she watched John sleep; thinking of herself in Athosian terms was not always immediate. However, it was true that her people were known to be very proud and have strong self-preservation skills. She was, ironically, proud of that fact, but could see that her own recent behaviour had not been helpful. Not that the situation was easy for her, and in many ways it was new, unchartered territory for her emotionally.

She had not been in love before, not like this. Not thinking about someone all the time, valuing their opinion of her too highly, and losing her focus to being with them. It felt like an infection, something that had come over her without her willing acceptance.

No, that was a lie, she could have held to their original agreement to have only a brief affair. Instead, they had both drawn out matters, spent any time they could together, and had indulged in their physical attraction to one another. And in there somewhere, it had shifted into love. At least on her part.

Oneakka had pointed out the simple truth of that state though – she was in love and could not change that fact. It was how she dealt with that state that she had control over, but she had tried to suppress it and push John away.

That was clearly not going to happen now, not now he was her husband!

The mission on Giant had also reminded her how easily and naturally they worked together, even in the face of a tornado. Clinging to John under the bridge, she had trusted in him to hold on, to save them both. If they had been thrown free and had died, then that would have been beyond his control. She knew he would do everything he could to prevent that, and he had. He was trustworthy, reliable, strong, and dedicated.

There was nothing not to like about him...which brought out the softer feelings again, the part of her that loved him deeply. The part of her that had her sitting here watching him sleep peacefully. She had no idea how long she had been watching him.

She studied his handsome face, allowing herself the time to enjoy the sight of him, which she had not allowed herself to do recently.

He was just what the Elite needed, what she needed as a husband, but it was the love, the intensity of it all, that she would not have selected.

But, she was in this situation now and had to deal with it.

Today had proven that they could still work together, better than ever, so it was time to accept that he was in her life in whole new ways. He was her husband and she was going to have to adapt to that.

To what depth of relationship that took them to, she was unsure. It was worrying to think that perhaps if they resumed their sexual relationship that she might lose more focus, that the physical needs and desires, the hormonal compulsion to be with him, might alter her behaviour again.

It was all down to control – keeping it and the fear of losing it.

And the belief that she ever was in control of the pull between her and John.

She wished she had never indulged in that first kiss with him, but was also glad that she had. Her life, complicated and difficult now, was better with him in it. For no other reason than the fact that their marriage would change so much, hopefully, for the galaxy at large. They had made that happen, and, perhaps, without their affair they wouldn't have created such an outcome otherwise.

The reality also returned that she was going to have to spend half her time with John in Atlantis, maybe even on Earth. She would be away from her people, of all kinds, and in Wraith held territory. Admittedly there was a sense of excitement in such new things and being able to maybe help reduce Wraith territory there. She would work as a middle party between Alliance and Atlantis, but she would also be away from her Elite friends, her family, and in a culture of which she knew little.

Marrying John would truly change her life in ways she had no perception of yet, and removed elements of control of which she was not happy.

Yet, it was the right choice.

So she would hold to this marriage, and she would need to apologise to John for some of the things she had said to him. To apologise in such a way felt annoying and embarrassing for her Elite self, yet she knew she had to repair some of what they had. For no other reason than the fact that they were going to spend so much more time together.

How their relationship would work in this new arrangement was unclear.

Besides, after the way she had behaved, he may never wish to touch her again. He may only wish their former friendship to continue, which part of her was tempted to suggest as well.

Then at least there would be some element of control.

She was thinking in circles again, all of it coming back to control and her making some space for him in her life. The future was uncertain, was somewhat out of her control and prediction, but she hoped that they could work together.

It was for the greater good.

She just had no idea how be a married Elite warrior, but there was no one else who could advise her on such, and certainly no one had married a man from another galaxy before!

She guessed she was just going to have to be the first.

00000

Halling looked over the displays, the multitude of screens almost blurring together in his vision.

He blinked away the sleep, silently cursing. With most of the other Elite off ship, only he and Oneakka were on the Sythus and there was a considerable amount to organise and oversee still.

Another report arrived on one screen and Halling moved around the tactical display to that particular area of the tabletop, more for an excuse to move than to see it more closely.

All the reports were the same now – simple updates on the secured former Nest System, the repairs that were underway amongst The Fleet. Normally the Sythus would have left the region by now, would be out patrolling the outer areas of the newly gained territory, keeping watch for any lingering Wraith, but the Sythus was in no state to do so. Therefore, Halling was left working on simply gathering intell and watching over the Sythus.

There had been a few retaliations from the Wraith at two areas of the border, but they had been dealt with quickly, and no Wraith had been sighted in scanning range in the hours since. All was quiet for now, though every listening station around Alliance territory was on high alert, ready for the Wraith to attack somewhere else. Yet, for now, nothing had happened.

Most likely the Wraith had been shocked by the attack on The Nest and were slinking off to recover.

It made Halling wonder, as such times always did, whether the planets out beyond the protection of the Alliance would take the brunt of retaliation. The Wraith would need to recover, to replenish themselves, and the unprotected worlds would fulfil that easily. He recalled that Atlantis had reported that large scale attacks on unprotected worlds outside the Alliance border had been increasing.

Another report arrived on the screen and Halling tapped through this far more useful information.

"We have confirmation that the station space dock is preparing to receive us, that the Sythus will fit, and that all ready engineers are being reassigned there now," he reported out loud towards Oneakka's back.

In the last seven hours since the battle had ended, Oneakka had not retired to sleep, despite Halling's suggestions. Instead, Oneakka had spent his time moving between the hull repair crews, Engineering itself, and up here on Central Station. He had said very little, appearing not to be in the best mood, which was strange considering the victory and that Oneakka normally loved to get involved with engineering works.

Oneakka had spent the last hour up here on Central Station, focusing on detailing all the readings and scans of the robots and the Seed Ship. It was not overly necessary work, someone else could do that for him, but he appeared to want to be up on Central Station.

Reporting the news of the dock had broken a good quarter of an hour of silence, but Oneakka's only response was a faint grunt.

Despite Oneakka having a reputation to say only what he felt was necessary, the man could be very talkative with those he knew well. That was not currently case, which was unhelpful for Halling as he needed the distraction.

His tiredness, the lingering fearful worries about Sitayi and his potential impending death needed distraction.

Only so much focus could be paid to attempting to work out what was wrong with Oneakka when he was so sulkily silent.

Nothing interesting or significant was happening outside the Sythus, though part of Halling was anxiously waiting for something to happen...something to confirm Sitayi' stare.

Nothing had happened though, and even his concerns for Teyla, Si and the other's was not helpful as a distraction as there would be at least two, perhaps three, hours left until they would emerge from the nebula. Assuming they were alive, had left Giant, and had not met with any Wraith inside the nebula.

There was little for Halling to do, nothing except manage basic work and try not to let his obsessive thoughts turn him insane.

Another report arrived on the screen and Halling eagerly latched onto it.

"The last Nest moon has been entirely scanned," he informed Oneakka's back. "No Wraith remaining."

Oneakka grunted more loudly at that – the sound relaying that he was suspicious of that conclusion.

"We have three Seekers helping the Fleet," Halling reminded him.

"Teyla and Si would know for sure," Oneakka replied, his longest sentence in hours.

"So you can still speak," Halling uttered down to the tactical display, his voice barely audible, but he knew Oneakka would overhear.

A faint noise that could have been a grumble was his only answer.

"These are good Seekers," Halling reminded him.

"Not Elite Seekers," Oneakka replied. Though now speaking, his tone still sounded sullen to Halling's knowing ears.

"Not all Seekers are meant to be warriors," Halling reminded him.

More data appeared on another screen. "We have a confirmed schedule for the Transport Craft to the secured Portal in three standard hours."

"The others will be back by then," Oneakka replied, his back still steadfastly turned as he worked on his console.

Halling found his gaze straying to the scans looking out on the side of the system where the nebula hung. Nalla as well as Teyla and Si' skills combined would surely bring them all back safe.

Perhaps that was why Oneakka was restless, but it was hardly new for them to sit waiting for the news of colleague survival.

"I am sure they are all well," he tried to reassure Oneakka.

Another grunt was his reply.

"Honoured Elite," a technician's voice announced from behind Halling, "I have a link coming in from the Training Facility."

"Put it through," Halling ordered.

The blackout to link communications during and just following the battle had been lifted hours ago, and the flood of incoming messages had been considerable considering practically the entire Fleet was focused in the system.

Many link calls had been in to the Sythus, and he and/or Oneakka had dealt with them all, many of which had been with the Training Facility. They had already transported the remains of the small robot they had down through the secured Portal to the Facility, though Halling suspected that it would already have been rerouted to the Mad Moon. The geniuses there would determine what it was. The scooped up tiny remains that they had of the Seed Ship had also been included, but it would be many days before there would be any results of the research.

At least another link in from the Training Facility would provide Halling something new to focus on.

"Um, Honoured Elite," the technician added though. "It is Edfu and he is asking to speak with Seeal."

Halling could understand the questioning confusion in the man's voice, but Halling knew what it would be about. He and Oneakka had dealt with that issue hours ago, but clearly it hadn't taken Edfu long to get the other permissions he needed.

Halling glanced to Oneakka's back, but the man had not moved. Halling could somehow tell he was listening intently though.

"Put it through to her," Halling replied to the technician.

"She's in my quarters," Oneakka put in, confirming Halling's suspicion that he was listening in.

"Yes, Honoured Elite," the technician replied as he turned back to his station. If the crewman was surprised or had any issues with Seeal's location he had hidden it well in his professional tone.

Her new sleeping location had certainly surprised Halling yesterday.

Oneakka let few in his quarters, let alone to sleep, and Halling had only slept in there himself once when he had been watching over Oneakka following a serious injury. Halling had not felt right leaving him so had remained by his bedside, and Oneakka had done the same for him before. In fact, Oneakka had done so more than once, but their lives were dangerous.

Halling remembered how comforting it had been in his sick or injured state to know that his strong warrior friend had been there to watch over him. That he was safe enough to rest deeply despite his instinctive worry at his vulnerable state.

The thought had occurred to him many times in the last few days to tell Oneakka about Sitayi, but he had also felt nervous about it. Yet, he rather craved to feel that security and protection of his friend's presence as he had when injured. He wished to share the burden, but suspected it would be just that to Oneakka – a burden.

It might not even be true.

The technician's murmuring voice stopped behind Halling's shoulder, the link put through to Seeal.

Halling lowered his gaze to a few new reports that had arrived in the last few seconds.

The crew manifest for the Transport run to the secure Portal in three hours already had four slots filled – the injured from the Healing Bay.

An idea rose up gently in Halling's mind.

It would give him the answers he needed and would stop his weak obsessive thinking...perhaps.

Except facing it might be worse...

He reached out and opened up the Transport manifest, paused to reconsider, and then added his name.

If the others had not returned out of the nebula by the Transport run then he could remove his name, but, if they had, then he could leave the Sythus for a couple of hours.

It would face the problem, rather than hiding from it. It was not the Elite way to live in fear.

He would be able to find her, either on Pelydr or elsewhere. No one denied an audience with an Elite warrior, and besides, being the powerful Seer that she was, Sitayi would likely already know that he would be looking for her.

At least then he could address her directly; would know for sure what her stare had meant.

Movement on the other side of the tactical display lifted his attention from his confirmed place on the Transport, to find Oneakka facing him from the other side of the table.

"You need me up here?" Oneakka asked bluntly.

Halling looked at his friend carefully. He looked tired, his already pale face slightly drawn and there was extra darkness under his eyes.

"No," Halling replied honestly. "You should rest," he put in quickly.

Except Oneakka nodded, surprising Halling.

"I can be back on rotation in three hours," Oneakka replied, his eyes grazing over the tactical display for himself.

"Good," Halling replied.

"The others should be back by then," Oneakka put in.

"Yes, they will," Halling agreed as he studied the warrior across from him.

Something wasn't right with him. It wasn't anything Halling could put his finger on precisely, but he knew he was right. He knew Oneakka too well.

Oneakka nodded and turned away, back to the silent withdrawn routine again as he strode away towards the closest exit. Only, Halling realised that Oneakka wasn't striding with his usual fast step; instead it seemed restrained, as if he didn't want to leave. Or likely didn't want to retire to rest.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Seeal would be in his quarters.

The timing of his departure was interesting, considering that Seeal would probably have finished her link call with Edfu by now.

Oneakka's assignment to watch Seeal was officially over; he would be free of the bickering and constant arguing.

Halling was surprised Oneakka wasn't more pleased about that fact, but he hadn't wanted to discuss that, or anything, in the past seven hours.

Halling certainly would be glad that the bickering would end.

If only his own internal constant worried chatter would be silenced as easily.

Though in three hours, if he could depart to Pelydr, he would finally find out what he may be facing.

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TBC


	54. Warm Spaces

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**Chapter 54 – Warm Spaces**

Waking up was a slow, dragging experience, but at least it was better than the strange, half formed anxious dreams left behind.

Blinking open one eye at first, Seeal considered her view of the wall of Oneakka's quarters. Just like yesterday morning, she discovered that she had snuggled herself down into the centre of the ridiculously comfortable bed.

She had been exhausted when she reached this bed last night, helped here by Madesh who had insisted in staying at her side the entire time after Oneakka had left them in the corridor. Madesh had walked her back here, had known the code for Oneakka's security system, and the fact that Seeal couldn't remember watching Madesh tap in said code told her how exhausted she had been.

She recalled Madesh helping her to the bed, literally to it. She'd explained that Oneakka hadn't meant Madesh had to literally walk her to the piece of furniture, but Madesh had insisted. Annoyed that he had, and that Oneakka had passed her over to him like some child, she had insisted that she shower before sleeping, despite the fact that she had barely been able to stand upright by that point. It had seemed logical at the time, needing to wash away all that she had been through. Fortunately Madesh had left her alone for her shower, but had hung around anxiously outside the closed door to Oneakka's washroom. She could only vaguely remember having the shower, but she remembered being exasperated with Madesh by the time she had finished drying her hair and exited the room. The man had been ready to barge into the washroom convinced she had fallen over and cracked open her skull.

Somewhat appreciative of the concern though, she had let him guide back to her bed and she just about remembered throwing the covers aside and lying down on the mattress. Then nothing else until now. Madesh must have put the covers back over her because she was definitely deeply buried in them now, tucked up in her own warm soft cave of contentment on this unbelievably comfortable mattress. She had forgotten how amazing it felt, and surely had to have some sort of drug infused in it to make her be able to sleep so deeply. Damn addictive thing.

Struggling up out of the embrace of said warm mattress and covers, she blearily peered over her shoulder into the rest of Oneakka's quarters. The privacy curtain had been pulled across, but the rest of the room was clearly empty through the sheer panels.

It took a bit more effort than she expected to untangle her legs from the covers and swing them over the side of the bed.

Everything ached, but especially her arms and hands. She lifted them up and saw the dark shade of bruising across her palms, and her fingers felt stiff and painful.

The memories replayed in nice vivid detail as she stretched open her palms repeatedly to loosen them.

There were a lot of dramatic memories to go through from yesterday, but it was the sensation of falling, of the surrender, that predominated her thoughts. The strange terrifying joy of just letting go...

Then the snap and hurt that followed; Oneakka's intervention that had shocked her in more ways than physical.

How he had gotten up there, gotten to her just in time...

It had almost been like life had grabbed for her as she had let go of it.

She dismissed the crazy philosophical idea and got up from the bed, or rather after two achy groan-filled attempts she managed to stand upright. Knowing she was alone in here she let herself groan and mutter as she worked to stretch out her body, convincing overworked and traumatised muscles to release after their long recovering sleep.

Fortunately, nothing felt like a proper injury, which was, frankly, amazing considering what she had gone through. It was confirmation that her exercise routines and strength training really did pay off outside of the former focus of beating up deadbeats on Dream. Turns out she could fight alien robots too. Good to know.

Forcing her reluctant body forward, she tugged the privacy curtain aside, revealing the rest of the room in its entirety, not just the coloured glimpses through those sheer panels.

Oneakka hadn't slept in his bed. A discarded shirt on top of the covers was in the same place as yesterday morning.

Except...his body armour was hanging off the back of a chair. She was certain it was the same armour he had worn during the battle. So, he had been in here, but hadn't slept in here.

Which was a little bit disconcerting, because normally she would have woken up the second someone entered her space.

It was the drug-infused mattress, that was it. Fighting a robot was to blame too. And almost sacrificing herself...

...best not to dwell on that one.

Or the fact that another explanation as to her deep sleep was that she felt safe in Oneakka's quarters, that his presence didn't disturb her. The man could move super silently though – she'd seen that evidence before.

Though there wasn't really a great reason to explain why she had made her way over to his armour and was touching it.

It was cool to the touch, telling her that he hadn't discarded it in here recently. Surely thick armour like this would retain his body heat for awhile, especially after all the work he had done in it.

She should stop touching the armour though.

And she certainly shouldn't be suddenly vividly aware of the scent in the room around her. It was a definite male smell, musky, but not unappealing, like so many men. With their smelly body odours and unwashed bodies. Sometimes she had wanted to arrest individuals on Dream just because of their hygiene issues, but Creass had told her off for it.

Oneakka's armour smelt like simply well used and cared for armour. It was smooth but solid under her touch, but perhaps not leather. It was likely some synthetic or hybrid version the Elite would have developed. It had a similar feel to the armour worn by many pit fighters for weapons fighting. Those vests, arm guards, and leg guards had been exclusively leather and with time and sweat had moulded to fit the fighters' bodies. Oneakka's was more obviously shaped to fit his body specifically. She ran her fingers down the side, discovering that the lower half was thicker to protect his abdomen. It wouldn't stop a serious weapon, but it would deflect weaker attacks and would help protect his ribs from fractures.

There were the faintest traces of nicks and scratches over the surface under her fingertips. He'd clearly smoothed them over, probably oiled the material or whatever, but she could feel them. Scratches telling of all manner of battles and weapons.

Each one would be a story, a crazy situation that most ordinary people would go their entire lives dreading might ever happen to them. Oneakka however stomped into such situations, because someone had to. Someone had to be brave enough, strong enough...

She snapped her hand away from the armour and took a step back from it.

This was not good.

The memory of the moment between them in the corridor moved forward for some attention. She tried to push it away, but it traitorously lingered.

She had just been grateful – grateful he had saved her, grateful that she had been able to help the Sythus, grateful that he had been being nice to her.

He saved loads of women, he was probably used to them admiring him afterwards.

Except he hadn't looked all that pleased at the strange pulling atmosphere that had formed between them. He'd run away down the corridor as fast as his long strong legs could take him.

After he'd ordered Madesh to take care of her like she was a child.

Or someone he cared about.

"This is not good," she muttered out loud into his empty quarters.

She didn't need to go getting all weak and pathetic over a male. She'd spent all her damn life dealing with males – her brother, the angrier male Glisi, street gang leaders, pit fighters who thought she was too weak or a challenge to their male egos. Then Creass, as much as she had been grateful for the job he had given her when she had needed somewhere the most, his attitude and behaviour had dominated her working life.

She'd given over far too much power to males, had spent far too much time dealing with their expectations of her, of what they wanted from her.

There was no way she was going to entangle herself with another male – give over her freedom to following him around.

Not that she could, she was simply here to get her clean record and then she was gone.

Besides he was an Elite warrior – it was stupid to even contemplate...she wasn't even going to finish the thought.

Ridiculous.

She moved steadfastly away from his armour and quickly entered the washroom. She was just exhausted and after adrenaline-fuelled life saving events people could behave strangely.

She emptied her bladder, pretending to think about something else, but actually aware that she could detect the scent of the shower Oneakka had had in here some time ago. He even had had a shower and she hadn't woken up!

When he would have been showering in here...naked.

"Don't be stupid, Seeal," she told herself sternly as she washed her hands. "Don't get all tempted in by stupid thoughts. I don't need this."

She was going to need to find some other quarters while she was on the Sythus. Maybe she should risk sleeping in the crew barracks. Though she'd get no real sleep, she'd be away from the tempting weak thoughts of worrying about Oneakka's opinion of her.

She didn't need this kind of complication.

She had plans...no set plans admittedly, but she was focused on her clean record. She'd keep working on her criminal intell for the Elite, on working through Toshka and the Dreamstation database copies, and just focus on the work.

Not because he wanted her to – because _she_ wanted to do it.

This was about her for once. Not about fitting in with a male's expectations and rules.

She was in control of her own mind and her own feelings. Stupid traitorous feelings.

She glared at her own reflection, as if that might help her to focus her silly affectionate thoughts. Only...she frowned at her reflection.

She looked different.

She clearly had had a deep sleep, her face was slightly puffy and one side of her hair had completely doubled in volume while she had slept. She reached up with damp hands to try and tame the wayward mass.

But the significant change was to the shape of her face. It was subtle and she guessed it had been happening slowly, but she could see it now.

She hadn't been underweight on Dream, but she had probably been considered lean. There had been enough food on the station, but she'd stayed away from the thick rich unhealthy stuff the cooks had made for the clients using the station. She'd stuck to small, simpler meals that the cook had thrown together for her twice a day when she visited the kitchens as part of her daily rounds. She'd made sure to eat enough for her physical requirements and health, but food hadn't been something that she'd really focused on in Dream. On her trips away from the station she had often indulged in nice foods, so she guessed it had been something about being on the station. Sharing the same food as the scum there. Or maybe it was just from growing up on the streets with a constant shortage of food.

But here, on the Sythus, she'd spent several weeks eating nutritionally strong regular meals. She'd certainly also been working out more. She squeezed one of her biceps – which complained following yesterday's hanging session – and confirmed that it was indeed somewhat bigger.

There was no denying it, she looked healthier. Her face had filled out and her body looked stronger. It _was_ stronger.

Perhaps her strength yesterday in the battle had been helped by her running around after Oneakka fighting Wraith, storming clubs, and arresting Iketani' past associates.

Being on this ship had changed more than she had realised, it had also changed her physical health.

Then there was the fact that she had been sleeping really well, especially these last two nights; the magical mattress that had let her sleep better than she ever had in her life. Damn it, even on the sleeping mat back in the Hot Water Regulation Chamber she had been sleeping better than before. The Sythus was a safe place for her.

Which was madness considering that it had been attacked by Wraith and alien slug-filled robots!

Shaking her head at her own clear madness, she exited the washroom and considered Oneakka's quarters. Which was when she noticed the covered bowl on the table near his armour. It looked like the ones from the ship's canteen.

Had Oneakka left it when he had been in here earlier? Was it his discarded meal?

Except the cover was on.

The explanation might be that it had been left for her.

Maybe by Madesh, but she suspected it had been Oneakka, since it was left near his armour.

She frowned at the lid, then reached out and removed it. There was a selection of fruits, honey and crackers inside.

He'd left her food.

"This isn't good," she muttered wearily as she sat down and stared into the bowl of gifted food. "It doesn't mean anything. He was just being thoughtful."

Which was stupid because the last person she would consider 'thoughtful' would be Oneakka. Except, that was a lie. His quarters and their conversations up until now had shown her that he considered things deeply and cleverly. It was just that he was brutally direct when he decided on a plan and the outcome he wanted.

Stubborn, that's what he was.

Though that was actually a characteristic she rather admired in people. In him.

She began to eat the meal, annoyed at the silly little soft feelings that it provoked in her. She didn't need to start getting like this towards a man that had no interest in returning any of it, and she didn't want a male in her life anyway. It would never happen away...an Elite warrior and her the ex-Security Lead of Dreamstation? Madness!

Besides, it really could have been Madesh who had left the food for her.

She clung to that thought as she stuffed the food down, her appetite completely uncaring about where the food had come from.

As she removed the very last bit of honey from the bowl with her last cracker a bleep and crackle from the far wall snapped her attention round.

"_Crew member Seeal, please respond," _a tiny tinny voice called out from the wall mounted communications device across the width of the room.

She didn't recognise the voice, but it had the professional efficient military tone that told her that the person on the other end would just keep calling for her if she didn't answer.

Chewing on the last bit of cracker, she crossed the room and pressed the com button.

"Here," Seeal called into it with more than a little suspicion.

"_A Link call is incoming for you from the Elite Training Facility," _the voice informed her.

She frowned at the speaker and the unseen person on the other end. _"Why?"_ She asked.

There was a momentary pause as the person on the other end considered how to answer that no doubt unexpected question.

"_I shall put it through to your location. The wall screen will light up_," the voice decided to continue.

She didn't bother replying because already a panel was lifting away from the wall next to her, revealing Oneakka's communications screen behind it. She moved closer, licking the last of the honey off one thumb as she watched the screen's running display and then abruptly a face appeared, filling most of the screen.

"Hello, Seeal," Edfu smiled out at her.

"Hello," she replied automatically, her suspicion in no way allayed.

"I heard of the great victory," he said with that wide sparkling smile of his. "How are you after the battle?"

She got the impression from his expression and his use of words that he knew exactly what had happened in the fight with the Wraith and against the robots.

"Fine," she replied simply. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Edfu worked that overtly handsome smile again. Honestly he looked like someone had purposefully designed him, with his overly symmetrical face and perfect teeth. It was just a little too off putting.

She preferred...

No, best not to go down that avenue of thought right now.

"I bring you good news," Edfu continued, as before seeming unconcerned by her blunt responses, but then the man worked security for the Elite. He was no doubt used to dealing with difficult, stubborn, rude, hulking, brave, blue-eyed Elite warriors all the time...

Her mind was wandering again.

It was just the nearly dying and all the good sleep on the magically soft mattress. Her mind had gone momentarily soft, that was all. Oneakka was annoying and difficult...yes, those were bad qualities.

"Following your good works in providing high level intell, assisting in vital security situations, and your part in several battles assisting the Elite, the Elite have granted your request for clean membership of the Alliance," Edfu announced.

She frowned at the official talk.

"Clean membership?" She repeated, but the answer was already occurring to her.

"Your clean record," he confirmed. "You are now a civilian of the Alliance with a clean criminal record. The details of your past involvements have been sealed, with only Elite and Division access to them."

She frowned. "Division?" She didn't like that department of the Alliance.

"We can hardly pretend they don't know who you are," Edfu chuckled lightly. "After all you were a high profile target and then an important informant."

She narrowed her eyes. "Which is something I am expected to be again?"

"No," Edfu replied instantly. "You are now a free citizen."

She waited for more, but he didn't add anything, other than a slightly amused smile.

She had her clean record? Already? Just like that?

It was what she had desperately wanted, had focused on for her future...a future she had no idea what to do with, but suddenly it had arrived.

"You seem surprised," Edfu commented.

"I hadn't expected it to be so quick," she replied honestly.

"The Elite are appreciative of what you have done and your part in the battle," Edfu replied.

She frowned as she glanced aside to Oneakka's quarters around her.

This meant she would be leaving, that she-

"Which brings me to the other reason for my contacting you," Edfu interrupted her thought.

She knew that tone, it was one employed when someone wanted something.

"I would like to offer you a job opportunity."

"Job opportunity?" She parroted back.

"I am gathering a team of experts to undertake a high level project for the Elite here at the Training Facility, and I would like to invite you to be a part of it."

"A high level project?" She echoed back, the official speak saying absolutely nothing about its content.

"Following a few incidents, one or two of which you are aware, the Elite have decided to review their own computer security systems."

"You mean like Iketani wandering around wherever she liked in your computer databases before you realised what she was?"

"That is one such example," Edfu nodded. "Karthig was another."

The spy that Seeal had found on the Sythus. When she had last seen Edfu he had been all about the questions as to how she had identified Karthig's destructive presence and the carry wave he had been using to hide his communications.

Which had been when they had been trying to crack into Toshka's database.

She smiled at Edfu. "You want to design a computer system from scratch, like Toshka's?"

"Maybe not so unique as to be so unusable by others," Edfu confirmed, "but yes, and I think you have considerable skills to offer the project. I believe your extensive experience will be a vital element in making this project work."

It would be a chance to design an entire new system, work with coding at the base level and help the Elite create something that would be challenged by the best of the best hackers out there.

It was tempting in a way she had never considered before. To be the one stopping hackers... She had designed such programmes for her own files while she had been on Dream, but to have access to the tech the Elite would have, to build something so significant from scratch...

She frowned at Edfu on the screen. "And the Elite are offering this job opportunity or insisting on it?"

"It is entirely voluntary. I requested to invite you in on this opportunity and the Elite have authorised me to make you this offer."

"Why would they do that?" She challenged.

"Because who else knows how best to break into such things?" He smiled, with his perfect teeth showing.

She nodded at the obvious logic. "And if I don't want to help?" She checked again.

"Then you receive your new Alliance identification documents and go on your way, but if you take this job, you will have full accommodation and meals supplied as part of your payment," Edfu answered.

She hadn't really thought about where she would go once she had her freedom, not seriously. Vague ideas and thoughts yes, but she hadn't really expected to reach this point so quickly.

"And think of how this could progress your career," Edfu added, working hard to sell the offer to her. "You help out in this project and I have no doubt that some interesting doors may open for you to use your coding skills elsewhere in the Alliance."

Again it was something she hadn't considered. She had thought to use her security skills for future employment, not her coding skills, but they were of equal value. Perhaps more so in the Alliance. The Alliance was hardly short of warriors and military personnel, but coders with her experience...now there was an area that she could use to her advantage.

This first job would give her somewhere to go, a place where her skills would be respected and truly useful.

She would have a place with purpose again.

"When would the work start?" She asked, knowing that she had already agreed really – it was the best chance she had to move forward.

"Most of the team are already here at the Facility and we have started throwing ideas together. Two more consultants are inbound, so if you could get here today it would be best." Edfu glanced aside at something beside his screen. "The Sythus is scheduled to use the local Portal where you are in a few hours; I can add your name to the list and see that you are given permission to travel here."

"'Here' being the Elite Training Facility?" She checked.

"Yes," Edfu confirmed. "You will be staying here, where things are most secure."

"By 'secure' do you mean that I would be required to stay there at _all_ times?"

"You will not be a prisoner," Edfu smiled in what seemed intended to be a reassuring way. "You will be able to leave as and when you wish, but all the work will be undertaken and retained in the Facility. You will be officially employed by the Elite for the period of the project."

"Which is how long?" She asked.

He shrugged. "It depends on how the project progresses and how quickly we can implement it. I would imagine months, if not a whole year. But, with you as part of the team, I am certain it will take far less time," Edfu added with exaggerated flattery.

She rolled her eyes, but had to admit that she knew she had the skills to really help make their project work. She'd probably be working with some of the best computer coding and tech minds in the entire Alliance.

The challenge, the fun of it...

Plus it would take her away from a certain confusingly appealing Elite warrior.

"Alright," she agreed abruptly.

"Wonderful," Edfu grinned earnestly from the screen. "I am adding your name to the Sythus Transport list. Those working at the Portal will ensure you are sent through to the correct Portal address, and someone shall meet you on our side. The Training Facility is a distance away via transport from the Portal, but I will meet you once you arrive at the facility."

She nodded at the instructions, it all seeming rather surreal.

Was this really happening? Was she going from criminal to free woman, to having employment? And with the Elite no less.

"I will see you in a few hours," Edfu concluded and with another somewhat amused smile he disconnected the link.

She stared at the blank screen that shifted to a scrolling screen of data, which quickly darkened before she could process what any of it said, and the screen requested a security code. How typical of Oneakka; even in his own quarters he had put a security code on the screen.

The temptation to hack that code was compelling, but she resisted it.

She was a free woman now. She could go anywhere in the Alliance and she had free rein to move in and out of its border. She had no record following her. She could do anything.

Suddenly it all seemed a bit too much, making her feel suspicious and nervous, and-

She heard the door to Oneakka's quarters open and she looked round as he appeared into view.

He stopped.

She froze too as they looked at each other in fixed, somewhat uncomfortable postures.

Like two predators that had accidently come across each other in the middle of the forest, they held their ground, watching the other carefully.

Cautiously.

"Hello," she found herself breaking the odd silent moment.

His eyes moved to the right side of her head – towards where her hair had gained all that extra volume in the night. "How are you?" He asked, a faint frown forming as he pulled his gaze back from her hair.

She suppressed every instinct that made her want to reach up and check her hair again, make sure it wasn't messy. It didn't matter if it was all over the place, she didn't care.

"I'm fine," she replied.

His gaze moved over the rest of her quickly in what seemed like a professional assessment of her health.

"I just needed a good night's sleep," she put in hurriedly, recalling that the last time he had seen her she had been all inelegantly slumped on the floor.

"I noticed from the snoring," he replied, reminding her that he had been in here while she had been sleeping.

"I don't snore," she objected instantly, unable to stop herself and she saw an amused glint in his blue eyes.

"And the muttering," he added, warming up to the subject clearly.

She was somewhat glad that they were falling back into their familiar banter and bickering though; it was far more comfortable than that weird tempting flush inducing moment back in the corridor last night...was it last night? She had no idea what the time was or how long she had been asleep.

"I'm glad you took care not to wake me," she told him, choosing not to respond to the muttering comment. "Edfu just contacted me," she added quickly before he could put in another teasing comment.

Oneakka's gaze slid immediately aside to where the wall screen still showed out from under its covering panel. "Didn't take him long," he muttered. She thought she detected some sort of judgement in his tone.

"You know about the job offer then," she noted, feeling a little annoyed at the fact that she appeared to be the last to know...well, out of her and Oneakka.

Did he not approve of her being offered the position? Was that why he had sounded judgemental?

"He needed my permission to ask you," Oneakka responded, thoroughly answering her silent question as he looked back at her.

"_Your_ permission?" She asked though, the point oddly significant.

"I've been the one assigned to watch you don't cause trouble while on the Sythus, to assess whether you're a threat," he clarified. She had guessed as much of course, it made sense, but suddenly it felt like all their time spent together had simply been because he'd been 'assigned' to her. Which of course he had, and she'd known that, so she shouldn't get upset about it.

"I see," she replied. This was exactly why she didn't have time for attractions – they made you question everything and get all sensitive.

"The other Elite wanted my opinion on whether you can be trusted," he added.

Since she had been offered the job at the Training Facility, it must mean that he now believed she was trustworthy. She'd gotten the impression that he trusted her before now, but it felt nice to hear that he did in fact trust her. At least when it came to giving her the clean record she had negotiated.

"So you agreed that I'm friendly and safe to be let loose around the innocent civilians of the Alliance?" She pushed, feeling the need to belittle the pleasure she felt by teasing him; it was their usual banter after all.

"I didn't use the word 'friendly'," he corrected.

"Well, _you_ wouldn't," she responded. "I imagine that the word 'trouble' was used frequently in your report though, along with hopes that I'll 'behave myself'."

He nodded instantly. "Exactly."

She pulled a face and looked away, feeling uncomfortable again. She looked back around his quarters, realising that despite having spent little time in here, she was going to miss the place. There was something appealing about the little home he had made himself in here – the amassed collection of his lost people's culture, his massive collection of literature, and all the random tinkered tech taking up most the table.

"I'm glad to see that you do put all the books and tech away before a mission then," she found herself noting, reaching for something to fill the silence.

They normally talked about her behaving herself, him telling her off, so now there was just...what? An ex-criminal and an Elite warrior chatting about what?

"It saves on time afterwards," he replied as he finally moved away from his fixed spot across the room.

She nodded as she watched him move to the still revealed wall screen that Edfu had talked to her through. He touched a button and the covering panel slid back into place concealing the screen once more.

She wondered if that was to hide it from her, stop her from snooping in some way. From being tempted by that security code that she was almost certain she could hack if she tried. She wouldn't though, because she wasn't like that anymore.

And she wouldn't do that to him, not after these last weeks...and his catching her yesterday.

She moved back across the quarters towards her small bed set against the far wall, and quickly ensured the right side of her hair felt under control. Her bag was still on top of her bed and she set about putting what few clothes she had back into it.

"I'm booked into the Transport that's leaving here in a few hours, heading down to some Portal nearby," she told him conversationally, assuming he would be interested.

"The Wraith installed one in the system, which we've secured," he replied.

He was moving around the room behind her, but she focused on filling her bag with her meagre number of things. If she finally settled somewhere one day, she guessed there might be the chance that she could retrieve her hidden away personal items at some point. She'd secreted small collections away in carefully placed locations over the years, along with a large amount of physical currency that she had saved up from her time working on Dream. Maybe one day she'd pull out all her tiny little random trinkets and memories she'd hidden away, make a home somewhere too.

Her bag packed, her jacket stuffed in there, because it was hardly chilly on this ship, she was done.

Great, three more hours to use up.

"I'll leave you to sleep," she suggested as she checked the bag was closed for the third time. "Maybe go say goodbye to Madesh and Ru," she considered. "Maybe Sheppard..." she turned back to Oneakka. "Did Sheppard come back from the mission?" She asked, realising she didn't know.

Oneakka was at the far end of his quarters, rearranging, or perhaps recovering his own trinket collection in the large wall display. "Too early to say," he replied glancing at her. "If they survived the mission and the trip back, they won't reach us for another couple of hours."

"Oh," she uttered, concern a strange settling presence. She hadn't known the Earthman more than two days or so, but she hoped he had survived, and Emmagan. The female Elite had, along with Oneakka, been the driving force in allowing her to stay on the ship; to work the deal for her clean record.

"Is the Sythus going to be okay?" She asked next, recalling all the damage yesterday.

"A few days in space dock," he shrugged off the repair work.

"I think it'll take a bit longer than three days," she disagreed. "And someone should talk to the structural engineers about the strength of the ship's interior walls," she added, remembering with sharp angry clarity the way the robot had torn them easily apart.

"I'll mention it," he replied as he turned towards her, finished it seemed with correcting his shelved wall display.

"And the oxygen tanks in those red emergency boxes should hold more air," she also recalled. "And there should be more weapons in the boxes too."

His expression shifted slightly, as if bemused or annoyed, she wasn't quite sure. She didn't let it stop her conveying her opinion on the ship's emergency systems though.

"And you people should seriously think about implementing some tethering system in the corridors," she considered. "On Dream we had cabling points on the walls in case of problems with the artificial gravity. You could add them easily enough to the wall conduits in the ship, or have a cable line inside the conduits that you can snap emergency harnesses to," she considered, warming up to the idea. She had used to help brainstorm this kind of thing on Dream.

He looked like he was about to add something sarcastic, but then looked thoughtful. "That is a good idea," he considered seemingly seriously.

"Yes," she replied. "I didn't run Dream for ten years without learning a few things."

"Mmmm," he uttered in a somewhat judgy tone.

"Useful things," she clarified, ignoring the fact that she had been essentially looking after the wellbeing of criminals and steadfastly ignoring things she didn't want to know about.

"Mmmm," he repeated the same sound and tone again.

"Don't you dare tell me to behave myself again," she told him hotly, pointing at him. "You don't get to do that anymore. I'm a free woman now."

Eyebrows above blue eyes lifted and his gaze focused on her pointed finger with a look that made her question pointing it at him, but she wanted to make sure he was paying attention.

The blues lifted from her finger to meet her gaze again. There was something intense in that look. "Most people, criminal record or not, do what an Elite warrior tells them," he said.

"I've done what I've been told," she objected, lowering the offending pointing finger.

He made a shocked doubtful noise as he crossed his pale arms over his wide chest. "When?" He demanded.

She realised he might have a point, but she wasn't going to let him win. "Have I hacked into the ship's computer again? No."

"Tyoosi threatened to throw you off the ship if you did," he reminded her. "Into the vacuum of space."

"I hacked into the computer that time for a reason, which was to prove to you all that you had a spy in your own ranks, whom none of you had noticed," she reminded him in turn.

He moved forward, towards her, working that big male posturing routine again. This was far more familiar than the somewhat cautious version of him that had appeared this morning. This grumpy pushy version of him was far more comfortable to be around.

"You are not to hack into the Training Facility's computer system for _any _reason," he ordered her sternly, stopping a foot away from her.

"I know," she answered dismissively.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Raven," he warned.

"I promise," she agreed, annoyed. "Even if it would help save the entire universe, I'll only do what I'm told. They'll hardly know I'm in the facility," she smiled at him.

His eyes remained narrowed, doubting her word it seemed. That annoyed her. Had she not proven herself now?

To cover that feeling she simply smiled overly sweetly at him again.

One dark Elite eyebrow lifted, shifting the spiralling pattern of tattoos across the right side of his forehead and temple. She was going to miss these battling discussions, they were oddly fun.

An unexpected sense of loss filled her at the thought.

She was going to miss being around him – he certainly made life interesting! And she hadn't had as much fun in...perhaps forever...as she had had helping him mop up Iketani' remaining associates in the Alliance. She rather wished she could stay and help see it all through.

Yes, because it was the work that was behind that that temptation, not the muscular, intense, fascinating male in front of her. A man that most people ran away from, but she would prefer moving towards.

No, that was not wise. Besides, it would never work, and she was leaving.

A new frown crossed his face, and she became aware of that magnetic feeling forming in the space between them again.

It tempted her to indeed move forward into his personal space, just be closer to him in that warm space between them.

It was stupid and dangerous. She hadn't just gained her freedom to go and emotionally enslave herself in some hormonally driven obsession with an Elite warrior who was more inclined to get himself killed than take her seriously.

Still, the physical presence of him was enticing. She didn't want it, but she let her attention drift into the sensation of that pull towards him, like watching something horrific happening in slow motion while knowing a shock would arrive at the end. Something she didn't want, but couldn't stop herself looking at.

It was probably born simply from the fact that they had faced death together. She had been through dramatic moments with former colleagues on Dream and in the pit fights, she knew it bonded people. It was all part of an instinctive drive to group together against threats, increasing one's chances of survival by doing so.

It was just that instinctive reaction.

And that he was handsome.

She could admit that to herself now...because she was leaving.

But she didn't need some tempting, self-destructive male in her life making her start to question her new freedom. Besides, she was leaving.

He blinked and looked aside, breaking the moment that had perhaps only lasted a second, she wasn't sure.

He clearly didn't want this new pull between them either.

He probably saved tons of women over the years, maybe he felt attracted to all of them afterwards.

That sullen silly thought made her look away from him herself.

She should go now, get out of his quarters and say goodbye to him. She could lose the next three hours annoying Madesh, or seeing how Ru was doing in repairing the ship. She would even have time to have another big nourishing meal.

It was time to look out for herself, which she was very good at doing.

"So, before I go," she began. "I wanted to thank you for...the whole helping me get my freedom and..." she glanced round to her bed again, not overly skilled at expressing gratitude. "You know, letting me stay here." She looked back up at him through the tiny difference in their heights.

He looked back at her again, but that cautious version of him was back.

"You did the hard work," he replied though.

"A compliment?" She asked, exaggerating her shock. "Wow, now I know I really have changed my ways."

"Maybe it wasn't as big a change as you thought it was," he replied philosophically, departing from their set bantering teasing routine again.

She considered his point though as she picked up her bag. "It's just a state of mind," she uttered to herself, her mind drifting back in time thoughtfully.

As she looked back at Oneakka, he frowned questioningly at her comment.

"Something my pit fight trainer taught me," she divulged. She'd never talked about him to anyone else. "He helped change my life too."

She looked up at Oneakka directly, hoping he understood her point.

"And I'm forever grateful," she added. Her old teacher and Oneakka were two men who had stood out differently from the rest; two men who had appeared in her life in a positive way and helped change her destiny.

A new connection seemed to hover between her and Oneakka at that. It wasn't quite the flush of attraction again, but a new shifted version of it, filled with what felt like real respect...and something else. She rather liked it, and it certainly felt more comfortable.

"Try and stay alive after I leave," she told him with an instructing smile.

A soft smile was her surprising response. He seemed more relaxed too now as well.

"Take it easy on the recruits at the Facility," he said, and she realised he had a point. The Facility was going to be full of trainee Elite warriors.

A gleeful smile crossed her lips. "Sounds like fun."

His smile widened before he controlled it. "Just remember the rules..."

"I know," she rolled her eyes as she should do in this game, "I'm not to kill anyone, hack into any computers without permission, or start any fights." She slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "You really know how to take the fun out of things," she teased him.

He shook his head, as was the way in their banter, and he moved away. She rather wished he had stayed close though, she rather liked this new connection. He felt like...a friend. An attractive, powerful Elite warrior friend, but it felt real and warm.

"I'll leave you to sleep, after all you've been up all night," she put in as he moved away. "Is it morning?" She asked out loud. "I have no idea what time it is," she was rambling now.

"It's early morning," he informed her.

She nodded. "Good, okay, I'll go see Madesh," she replied.

It was time to go, but she felt ambivalent about it. She rather wished they could sit down at his table together and he could do his tech tinkering again and she could try and crack that retinal scanner hack. They could sit in silence as they had the other night, just two unusual people sharing time.

Sharing friendship.

"Or we could work on this," he stated though and she looked round to see that he was holding out a large pad of paper. No it wasn't paper it was a pad of plastic sheets and on the top sheet there were drawings, sketches and...

She moved towards the pad, focusing on the drawings. There were four large drawings among the various random sketches, all black and flowing little shapes. They looked similar to Wraith markings.

"I don't understand," she frowned at him.

"Pick one," he replied, not answering her question. His face was serious again, his look intent as he held the pad. "I can alter it if you want."

"Alter it for what?" She asked, honestly confused.

"For your marking," he replied.

"My marking?"

"For the Queen you killed," he replied. "On the Glisi world."

The Elite gave tattoos to those that killed Queens. The fact hit her suddenly.

She stared down at the drawings again. She had killed that Queen, but...

"But I'm hardly-" She started.

"The Elite honour brave acts," he interrupted her. "Now you are no longer a criminal, you can have it."

To say that she felt thrown off her centre was an understatement. The Elite were giving her a tattoo design?

"You drew these?" she asked, focusing on that point having realised what he had said about altering them.

He nodded, glancing at the pad he was still holding out to her. "I altered the markings from the Queen, made it a more flowing style, but I can alter it. I prefer the top right one."

She focused on that particular design, which she had to admit she preferred as well, but she was still a little overwhelmed. "Another hobby?" She teased him to fill the moment.

He shrugged. Honestly it was like the man was working to make himself more interesting and fascinating.

"You don't have to have it," he added, drawing the pad back.

"No," she grabbed at the edge of the plastic pad, "I do. You can't offer something like that and then take it away."

He smirked as if he had planned for her reaction, so she took the whole pad from him and focused on the designs.

She did prefer the one on the top right, but it was the biggest, though it was comprised of a series of small black shapes. She could see the original outlines of the Wraith markings sketched next to it, could see how he had elongated the small designs to make them better...make them look more feather-shaped. She took in the whole design, suddenly seeing that the small flowing shapes combined into a flowing whole that looked rather like...a black bird.

A raven.

It wouldn't be obvious to anyone else, but to her it was.

The strange crazy compulsion to cry came over her, but she quickly suppressed the reaction.

"I like the top right one too," she said instead.

"I can adapt it to fit as needed when inking it," he responded.

She looked up from the pad. "You tattoo too?" She asked incredulously.

"I don't have to do it for you, but it has to be an Elite. Two of us onboard can tattoo. Si, when he's back-"

"No, you can do it," she interrupted. "I'm just continually shocked at the skills Elite acquire." She focused back on the design. "When can I have it?"

He glanced aside to where he had activated an electronic tablet. "We have an area for inking in the Healing Bay. The design will likely take the two hours or so before you leave."

She met his gaze.

"It'll hurt," he added, which felt more like a challenge.

"Hurt like a giant slug robot hanging off my body?" she scoffed and pushed the pad back at him. "We should get started then," she decided. If she was going to do this, now was the time apparently.

He took back the pad. "Where do you want the marking?"

She picked her bag up again, which she had dropped during the whole 'you can have an Elite tattoo announcement'. "It needs to be out of sight," she considered. After all she wasn't an Elite herself. "Where would be best for this design?" she asked him, since he was the expert.

He turned the pad and held it up, considering the artwork. "Maybe outer arm, around your side, or hip-"

"High up on my side," she decided. She could hide it easily there and the shape of the design would work nicely around her ribs.

"It's a sensitive area to ink," he warned, but he tucked the pad under his arm and moved away, leading the way to the door.

"Please," she scoffed again. "After you've been stabbed with a spine pointed Satedan battle axe, then we can talk about sensitive."

He glanced over his shoulder at her as they neared the door of his quarters. "What happened?"

"Years ago on Dream," she told him. "This drugged up gambler had a fetish for unusual weaponry, and he objected to us pointing out his cheating on the card tables. He went at me with the axe, mostly a flesh wound, but the scars really do sting for months afterwards."

"Where is this gambler?" he demanded as he looked round from tapping in his security code.

He sounded like he was ready to go find the man in question.

"He's not a problem anymore, trust me on that," she reassured him.

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Creass took it all rather personally – people cheating at his tables really turned him nasty," she explained a little further.

Oneakka looked away with a frown and finished tapping in his code. She couldn't help but notice that he didn't cover the pad as he did so, leaving her to memorise the code if she was so inclined. He changed the code daily so it didn't matter really, since she would be leaving in a few hours.

After he tattooed her side. Which, now she was thinking of it, would involve her showing some flesh.

"That's not the only scar you'll see when you do the tattoo," she felt compelled to tell him as she followed him out into the corridor.

He stopped, but before tapping in his code again on the outer pad, he gave her a withering look that, ironically outlined on one side by his own significantly large scar, reminded her just how much he would put any value on such things.

She felt embarrassed at her stupid comment, motivated as it had been solely by her own self consciousness about her body. She was proud of what her body could do for her, its strength and her shape. She supposed that actually comparing scars was something she and Oneakka would have in common.

"One scar is from an Ugun blade," she recalled as he tapped in his code again on the keypad outside of his quarters. "Your people forged good blades," she commented honestly though a little regretfully for him.

"My father was a blacksmith," he responded.

It was a tiny bit of information about him, but she understood it was a big offering.

They really did have a friendship of sorts now. A strange, unexpected, unusual friendship.

"Family business?" She asked as they headed down the corridor together.

"No," he replied, "I had eight siblings." His tone was controlled, the absence of any emotional tone far more telling than if he had sounded pained.

He had lost everyone, but he was talking about it. She felt quite honoured.

"Eight?" She uttered. "That would be a busy forge," she joked lightly, then wondered if it was inappropriate –

Oneakka nodded next to her, not seeming too insulted by her comment.

She wasn't sure how to talk about things in a friendship. She tended not to tell anyone anything about herself. In fact Oneakka already knew more about her family than anyone else she had ever met, other than her pit fighter trainer. She guessed friendships were about sharing information, lives.

"My father was the only person who ever really cared about me," she confessed. "I used to hate him for getting killed, for not having taken our family away from the camp. We could have lived in one of the caves; the snow would have kept it insulated all year round and the forest supplying all we could need. We wouldn't have needed to constantly move as the camp did."

It was a little fantasy she had imagined many times, thinking how things could have worked out differently. If her parents had broken away from the camp, it would have saved all of them from the prejudice and violence. Things could have been different.

"You'd still have left your homeworld eventually," Oneakka replied though, surprising her.

She glanced at him walking beside her. "Why?" If her family had been secure, if they had worked together, loved each other...

"You hate the cold," he replied.

She smiled back, liking that he knew that about her. "I _do_ hate the cold."

He really did understand her.

She paused at a thought. "It's warm in the Training Facility right?" She checked.

000000  
TBC


	55. Reconnecting

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**Chapter 55 – Reconnecting**

It was deathly silent in the Elite shuttle behind John as he sat in the co-pilot seat beside Inifee. All eyes were no doubt forward past his and Inifee's shoulders to the nebula soup ahead.

They were moments away from the predicted edge of the nebula.

John's eyes slid back down to the readings on the screens in front of him. He was getting faintly better at interpreting what he saw, by which he could tell when something new appeared. Usually it was just a denser bit of nebulous...whatever...gas? He knew if Rodney was here he would pipe in with the answer to that question, but it seemed that the Elite went for the complete silence option when nervously waiting.

John could work with that, but the urge to make some joking comment, even quietly, was almost overwhelming. But, he controlled himself. It was just nervousness after all.

Nothing significant was changing in the readings yet. Not much registered from outside anyway, the nebula having been the perfect cover for them to get to and from Giant, but right now, the nebula was preventing them from knowing what would lie in wait for them once they emerged from the nebula. From what John understood, once they left the nebula they would be slap bang in the Nest System. So, if the Alliance hadn't won the battle, the two shuttles were going to find themselves in the middle of some seriously pissed off Wraith.

John didn't like that option, but it was a real possibility, so watching the screens intently, he waited desperately to get some sign of something, any hint or clue as to what might be outside the nebula.

Something shifted in the screens, the readings lowering.

"I think the nebula is thinning out," he commented quietly to Inifee next to him, though his voice sounded loud in the tense silence in the shuttle.

Inifee nodded next to John. "We should see stars at any moment."

It was who would be hanging around those stars that would be the important point.

John nibbled on the inside of his lower lip as he watched the screens as completely as he could, waiting for any change that he could report quickly. Split second reactions were important here and he didn't want to miss anything.

His head was clearer following his 'nap'. He'd been faintly embarrassed when he had finally woken up, possibly as a result of someone shaking his shoulder, he wasn't sure. He had been wedged into the corner of the back seats and had slept for something like seven hours. He felt better for it mentally, but his body had almost entirely ceased up from it. Joints and muscles ached, and one ankle was definitely complaining loudly. He was almost certain he had done that during his fall off the embankment being tackled by that Wraith. It wasn't broken, but he couldn't look at it with the brown atmospheric suit on, but he could tell it wasn't really swollen or anything and he could put pressure on it. It was likely a light sprain, but it was niggling him. His right shoulder was almost as bad, as was something aching down on his right side. Nothing felt cracked or badly damaged, but he suspected the next couple of days would be uncomfortable. Some days he wondered if he was getting too old for this sh-

Something shifted on the screen, a new reading out of nowhere.

"Got something," he said loudly and he could literally feel everyone's attention focus on the back of his neck. "Not in the nebula, power readings ahead?"

Inifee leant slightly closer, his eyes straying down from the front view for a moment. "Communications and energy readings," he confirmed. "Not Wraith," he added with a smile.

The relief was instant.

"But there's a lot of-" Inifee began, but stopped as all eyes took in the change out the front.

The gaseous weird colourful soup of the nebula was fading, like clouds parting ahead of them, and abruptly the usual blackness of space and the sparkle of distant stars filled the view.

Well, it was the backdrop to the real action.

To say there were a 'few' Alliance ships would have been to downplay the mass of tech hanging out in the Nest System.

Two large planets off to the left had their orbits littered with ships, piece of debris large enough for John to see by eye floating around them. A moon hanging directly above one planet looked like its surface was on fire, flickers of red showing through black swirling atmosphere.

Off to the right, another planet was visible in the distance and John again could see the spots of light that were ships above it and the planet's surface again was partly filled with black burning smoky skies.

The view was momentarily blocked though as a flash of light brought several small fighter jet like ships into view, and John realised that the screens in front of him were lit up with flashing lights.

"Military Fleet," Seifer's voice arrived loud behind John's shoulder. "This is Elite Transport One and Transport Two behind us."

The flashing lights on John's screens cut off abruptly.

Weapons' locks.

That wasn't worrying at all.

"Transport One, this is Commander Flight Zero Two, welcome back," a voice replied. "The Nest System has been entirely secured and is deemed Security Level Two. Your route to Sythus is direct, be aware the vessel has taken some damage and is position locked."

John felt the atmosphere in the shuttle shift, and he had to agree. The Sythus was damaged?

"Understood Commander," Seifer replied, his tone tight. "Please pass coordinates."

"Sending now, Honoured Elite," he voice replied. "We will accompany and clear the path for you."

"Understood," Seifer replied.

"A wonderful victory," the fighter pilot added and outside John saw two of the fighters perform two tight turns and move ahead of them. Inifee tapped on some controls, drawing John's attention back to the fact that he was supposed to be supporting, it was just that the view out front...

He had no doubt, as he had feared before, if anyone at the IOA or Earth Defence could see these kind of scenes their views of the Alliance might not be so friendly. If the Alliance one day turned against Atlantis...

But they had the Marriage Contract at least now.

"Coordinates received," Inifee reported. "Transport Two is with us."

From complete silence in the back, the shuttle suddenly became a burst of movement, everyone, by the sounds of it, moving forward to push in close behind his and Inifee's shoulders to see out the front.

John couldn't see the Sythus anywhere yet, but they were moving at a fair speed after the fighters. It was probably a big system.

He was aware of the instant she settled her hand on the back of his chair, her hand faintly brushing the black of his shoulder. He glanced round instantly and looked up to see both Teyla and Seifer at the front of the peering group. Seifer was leaning on the back of Inifee's chair and Teyla at the back of John's. She was leaning forward, physically getting that tiny bit closer to the view, her and Seifer's concern obvious as they strained to spot the wounded Sythus.

John hoped Ford was okay. That everyone on the ship was, but especially Ford. If something happened to the kid because of John's spontaneous stupid decision...

No, the marriage contract had been good thing, though not all that good for John's heart.

Despite all that they had said and shouted at each other these last days, Teyla just had to lean in close to the back of his chair and he was looking eagerly around.

Though, admittedly it was the closest she had willingly been to him in days that didn't involve surviving a tornado. And she seemed relaxed, learning in close, uncaring that part of her side was brushing the end of his shoulder as she leant a little further forward.

"There," she was the first to announce.

John looked up to see her outstretched arm and finger pointing off to the right.

To John the Sythus was still too small to make out any details, and its dark hull made it hard enough to spot in space, but it was immediately obvious that something wasn't right. There was a line of small Alliance fighters in an encircling orbit around the ship and the ship was obviously hanging entirely still in space.

Debris littered the way there, pieces of broken destroyed ships floating through the system like the remains of a frat party, but the fighters led them on a clear enough route and John saw some weapons fire to clear some bits away.

"There are some Alliance hulls," Seifer commented.

"Yes," Teyla agreed from next to John, her voice soft and concerned to his ears. "But mostly Wraith," she added.

Inifee reached out and tapped some controls beside one of his screens, his hand fast returning to flying, but John saw the scan he was running on the screen. The same scan appeared on one of John's screens. He watched as lines of unreadable Alliance speak appeared around the scan of the fast approaching Sythus.

John frowned at the gobbledegook. He had gotten used to reading nebula and Giant atmospheric readings, but this was too in depth.

Teyla's arm suddenly reached into his view, reaching towards some buttons next to the screen and she tapped a few, altering the scan readings.

She was well in his personal space now, leant right over his shoulder, her neck and shoulder level with his head. Her presence felt warm, the scent of her mostly the dried mud of Giant, but he could still catch the essential 'Teyla' smell of her.

It stirred something that had been ignored and angrily suppressed for days. They had agreed to focus on moving forward, getting over what had happened, but it had been a tense annoyed agreement. But, going up against the Wraith and a tornado together, holding onto each other for dear life, had taken them back to the basics of relying on each other. They worked damn well together, and that renewed fact had changed things for him apparently. He wasn't angry with her anymore, and was right now vividly aware of her leaning so close.

He realised he had shifted his gaze to the side of her throat so close beside him as she studied the scan of the Sythus. The brown and bronze atmosphere suit had a high neckline, but the dark spiralling line of her tattoos rose out of it, twisting up around behind her ear.

Sensuous memories arose of pressing his nose into that space, of the feel of her skin, the warmth of her soft throat and taste of her...

He snapped his attention away sharply, focusing back down on the scans.

Angry at himself now, annoyed that she just had to damn well lean close to him and he was lost in thoughts of her...

He blinked at the scan result, aware that she was pulling back from him – maybe she had picked up on something with him.

"There is a breach, lower left hull," she was saying, and John could see that on the scans now.

Looking up, aware his heart was stupidly pumping hard in his chest, he frowned at the view out front. In the seconds he had been distracted by Teyla, the shuttle had almost reached the damaged Elite vessel.

He felt his mouth open as the shuttle ran alongside the Sythus, revealing the dots of people working out on the hull and the massive hole in the side of the ship they were attempting to repair.

People pressed in closer behind his chair.

"Looks like one or two floors," Seifer muttered, the frown clear in his voice.

"A very wide breach," Teyla uttered. "An explosive," she added.

"Mmm," Seifer agreed. "Internal," he added a second later.

John frowned at that and the view. He could see it now; could see the way the metal hull, damn thick it was too, was pushed outwards at the edges. It looked like the explosion had taken out most of the side of one deck.

What the hell could do that from the inside?

"Power readings are stable," Inifee put in. "Engines appear intact," which answered part of the questions everyone was probably thinking – the explosion wasn't from the ship's power systems. Maybe some Wraith got aboard...

He hoped Ford was okay.

"Transport One and Two," Halling's voice arrived suddenly into the shuttle. "Welcome back in victory."

"Halling, it is good to hear your voice," Teyla was the one to answer. "We are looking at the damage to the ship now."

"The Sythus is secure and stable," Halling replied. "We had some issues with the artificial gravity with the loss of the lateral stabilisers in that area and power being blocked, but everything is secure. We are reading one less lifesign on Transport One," he added.

"We lost Mo," Teyla reported sadly, "and Keit has received a head injury. I do not believe it is serious, but he will require immediate medical assessment."

"Understood," Halling replied into the shuttle. Outside Inifee was banking them around behind the Sythus, which had no glaring holes but had a nice collection of burn marks and long hull scratches that John didn't remember from earlier. "Medical team will be in the Transport Bay ready," Halling added. "I will meet you there in moments."

"A great victory, Halling," Teyla added.

"Yes, it was," Halling added, but John found himself frowning at the guy's tone, like he wasn't all that convinced.

John just hoped Ford was okay and Halling wasn't going to be delivering bad news.

He would know any minute though, because the Transport Bay was open ahead and Inifee was taking them gently inside. John saw the buzz of the forcefield around the nose of the shuttle as it eased into the bay, and ahead of them he could see some of the same faces as he had seen in here when they left. The medical team was obvious as they arrived just ahead of the landing nose of the shuttle, their medical packs and the stretcher between them. One of them looked a little beat up himself.

He couldn't see Ford anywhere.

The shuttle touched down gently and John felt Teyla move away from behind him as the shuttle settled. Looking out of the left porthole John saw the other shuttle touchdown on the other side of the small bay. While it was still settling, the medical team passed quickly through John's view, and he heard the shuttle's hatch opening behind him.

"We have a set routine to power down and cool down," Inifee said to John, drawing his attention back to him.

John nodded automatically as he looked round, remembering that he was here as co-pilot. "Okay," he replied, aware of a load of movement in the back as the others no doubt got Keit handed over to proper care and they all climbed out themselves.

"The cool down is only necessary if we've used the 'wow' switches," Inifee added, indicating the red switches that John had gotten to use during their excessive evac from Giant.

John met Inifee's gaze and grinned. After John had woken up from his 'nap' and returned to the role of Inifee's co-pilot in the nebula, Inifee had teased him about the clear shock John had experienced on the rocket boost trip out of Giant's atmosphere.

"They haven't had a chance to cool down in the hours since we used them?" John asked.

"We couldn't actively cool them properly while travelling at full thrust back here," Inifee replied. "They're probably cool, but with the nebula adding a new element, I want to be sure."

John nodded, but glanced out the front into the Bay. Still no Ford. The medics had Keit sat to one side and were doing their thing, as behind them John saw Halling enter the Bay. He looked alright.

Was Oneakka alright though? Madesh, Seeal, the other strays? Ketra?

Wow, when had he gotten to care so much about a good number of people on the ship?

"These switches push coolant through the thrust valves," Inifee instructed as he flicked some more switches and John made himself focus. He might need to know this stuff again someday.

"We can only flood the coolant when landed," Inifee added and, through the open hatchway in the shuttle's back, John could hear a new rush of noise above the chatter of the Bay outside.

"How long for?" John asked.

"Seconds," Inifee responded. "This reading tells us when it's cool enough." He tapped a display. "If it's not working, then a good count of ten will do." He let go of the coolant switch and the noise outside stopped. John frowned at the little display.

"I usually give it a count longer than necessary," Inifee added with a knowing glance. "It's especially important if you land the craft on a surface that's malleable that you make sure everything is cool, otherwise you will find yourself in a growing melting hole in the ground."

"Sounds like there's an interesting story behind that," John commented, his eyes straying out to the Bay once more, but still no Ford.

"One or two," Inifee replied with a smile. "Once that's done, just shut everything down as you saw in your training." Yeah, the very rushed training. "Close this down here, then these, working across the board opposite way to the start up."

John nodded.

Inifee flicked some last switches and the shuttle darkened, completely shut down around them. "It is the pilot's responsibility to ensure the craft is safe for the engineers to approach and refuel," Inifee continued. "But that's it."

John nodded again and Inifee smiled back.

He didn't appear in any rush to leave his seat.

"You did well, John," Inifee added, his tone more conversational now. "If you want to fly second again, we can run some practice flights the next time you are onboard."

John understood that as a real proper offer and a sign of respect, one pilot to another. "I'd appreciate that."

Inifee grinned one of his wide bright grins again as he finally started to get up from his seat. One hand patted John's nearest shoulder as Inifee moved into the back of the shuttle.

"Thanks," John replied as he tried to follow. His body had slightly ceased up though, stuck here in the front again for who knew how long. Damn it, he could really do with a good warm bath about now. He'd have to settle with a hot shower in Teyla's bathroom, assuming he was going to be able to rest a bit following the mission.

Despite the creaky joints and his ankle grumbling, he followed Inifee out of the pilot section of the shuttle and stepped down into the Transport Bay once again.

Inifee was waiting for him and held out a gloved hand to shake. "It was an honour piloting with you, John."

John smiled as he shook Inifee's hand. "Thanks for letting me tag along."

Inifee grinned again and patted him on the arm this time. "Head back to the side room and leave the atmosphere suit in there," Inifee instructed. "Then we'll all have the rest of the day off. I am sure I will see you in the canteen or such later."

"Thanks again," John smiled back as Inifee moved away, heading towards where the other shuttle's pilots were climbing out. No doubt they were going to share stories of what both ships got up to over Giant. He kind of wished he could join in, but he wanted out of this brown suit now and he needed to find out if Ford was okay.

He headed across the Bay, moving around the busy techs, and no one tried to stop him or seemed to be keeping an eye on him at all. He couldn't see Teyla or the other Elite anywhere, but then they were probably debriefing. He wondered if he was supposed to write up a report for them or something.

He reached the open doorway to the side room where he had changed into the atmosphere suit. There was a pile of everyone else's discarded suits to one side – they'd all gotten here while John had still been in the shuttle with Inifee. He reached the bank of lockers and opened the one he had left his uniform in. The contents weren't as he had left them; they were mostly crammed up to one side of the locker. Hadn't Halling said something about the artificial gravity having been hit? Or had someone gone through his things while he had been off the ship? Not that there was anything interesting about his socks and shirt.

He stripped out of the atmospheric suit behind a screen, his arms sporting more bruises than he had expected, but there wasn't any blood, so it was all good. He was relieved to see that his ankle wasn't bruised and only a little swollen as he pulled on his own sock and boot.

Once again dressed in his far more comfortable Atlantis uniform, he added his suit to the others and rolled his shoulders.

"Major?" Ford's voice arrived before he did, and John was desperately grateful to hear it the second before the kid rushed into the small room. "Major!"

"Ford!" John replied, dropping the rank he was so relieved.

"You okay?" Ford hurried towards him. The kid looked like he had been through more than John; he looked dishevelled and had a clear bruise around one eye.

"I'm fine," John started to reply but Ford caught him up in a hug.

Surprised at the emotional display, John patted the guy's back. "I'm good."

"I heard down the hallway that one of your team was killed," Ford explained hurriedly as he let go of John, seeming embarrassed at his hug routine now.

"Mo," John recalled the security member's name. "Got fed on by a Wraith in front of me." Though truthfully 'on top of me' would have been a more accurate description. It was yet another horrific memory that would show up in a nightmare some time. Great.

"What happened here? You okay?" John asked, pointing to Ford's face.

"You should have been here," Ford replied excitedly though, surprising John again. "Two more of those robots were secretly growing on the hull and tore their way into the ship during the battle and attacked the crew. They had grown ten times the size of that small one you saw, they filled the corridors," Ford waved his arms wide to show the size. "We threw everything at them, but it just absorbed all the energy weapons, so we had to use projectile weapons." Ford grinned. "I got to use this canon-like gun, never seen anything so powerful back home."

John nodded along with the dramatic fast told story. He really had missed some serious action on ship.

"The robots were literally tearing the walls of the corridors down," Ford continued. "But we stopped them," he added proudly. It hadn't been lost on John that Ford had been using 'we' a lot in the story.

"Then," Ford added dramatically, "Seeal finds out there's another robot hidden down on a lower level. She and a team go down there, but the robot set a bomb on the hull and it tore out the side of the ship!"

That explained the internal explosive damage John had seen. "Is Seeal okay?" He asked worriedly. He didn't really know about the woman, but she seemed cool enough.

"She fought the last one, she and Oneakka got out just in time as the fighters outside had to shoot into the ship to get the last robot. But while this was going on the bomb had taken out part of the ship's artificial gravity tech and the ship was hanging on its side for like half an hour. The corridors became towers!"

"Whoa."

"Then the robot my group had disabled started coming round while we were trying to kick it back out into space," Ford continued, so excited. "So, I used my flashbang,"

"You got to use it!" John grinned.

"Rolled it right under its head, blew up and out around it," Ford added proudly. No doubt that move had gotten Ford some kudos with the crew. "It was great."

"I can see that," John agreed. "And you're okay?" He checked again, though clearly the kid was fine and hyped up on adrenaline too apparently.

"I'm good."

"Where'd you get the black eye?" John asked pointing at the kid's eye.

"Just a bit of wall that the robot brought down," Ford brushed away the injury. "What happened on Giant?"

"Oh you know," John started, "dangerous mission to an underground bunker, giant merging tornados, Wraith everywhere. One tackled me off the side of a riverbank, then I almost fell out of the shuttle's hatch while it was midair, and we used these amazing rocket-powered engines to get up off the surface of Giant in _seconds_."

"Wow," Ford uttered.

"That's what I said," John grinned.

"You sure _you're_ okay?" Ford checked.

"Few pulled muscles, my ankle's complaining, but I'm okay."

"You should tape it up," Ford advised looking down at the offending ankle, but over his shoulder, John saw Teyla step into view. She was looking into the room – looking for him?

She was back in her Elite gear, her own atmospheric suit probably in the same pile as John's, and she made eye contact with him. Her gaze shifted to Ford, but back to John.

"Looks like they need me for a debrief," John guessed.

Ford looked over his shoulder and Teyla glanced away. Stood out further in the Bay, she was looking towards the shuttles, but she was holding her ground. Waiting for him to finish with Ford?

"Some of us are heading to the canteen for breakfast," Ford stated. "Meet you there?"

John nodded, pulling his attention off Teyla and back on him. "Some of us?" He asked with interest.

An extra warmth of colour filled Ford's cheeks slightly at that point and he glanced away and shrugged in a forced casualness that made John smile. "A few of us." He'd glanced off across the Bay though and John looked out past Teyla, across the Bay to where there was another open doorway. Stood there, watching, were about four of the crew...including Nevaeh.

"Aww, you've made friends," John teased.

Ford rolled his eyes self-consciously, pretending he didn't care. "We went through a lot yesterday, some of them were in the Stray's team."

"Yeah, I can see Nevaeh's there," John commented pointedly.

"Isn't your wife waiting for you?" Ford retaliated.

John smiled and looked away, feeling self-conscious himself now. "Well, have fun with your new pals, I'll see you there."

Ford nodded and moved away, though patted a hand to John's arm as he left. Why was everyone patting him today?

"Good to have you back, Major," Ford grinned and hurried out. John noticed that he nodded politely to Teyla as he passed her.

John followed, moving more slowly out of the room towards Teyla, but he kept his eyes on Ford, watching as the kid hurried to his new friends. Once there, they were all talking and leaving together. And John saw Nevaeh, who looked like she was limping, slip her arm through Ford's offered elbow, and disappear alongside him.

He had no right to judge. He shouldn't be worried.

But, then he had enough of his own issues to worry about.

As he neared Teyla, she turned so that she faced him, the busy action of the Transport Bay going on behind her.

Nothing had really changed since they had left the Sythus not even a whole day ago, when they'd been still recovering from the previous two days. The issues were still there, the same angry words had still been thrown at each other, but the mission had changed something. Maybe it was the simple cliché of facing death together again, but he felt calmer, closer to her again. He'd lost the anger that had been raging in him, the anger that had started the second she had told him about her impending Political Marriage and all through his trying to do the right thing but her seeming to hate him for it.

Nothing in all that had changed, but as he stood opposite her, he felt different. He felt stronger, knew that he had proven something to her and the other Elite today. He'd made the offer for marriage because of Atlantis, because he knew it would be the best thing to fight the Wraith, and today he, and Ford, had helped prove how much they could back up that promise. Atlantis was ready to help out and now they could; now they could maybe start kicking back at the Wraith from outside Alliance space.

He'd proven he could be the Political Husband, not be a burden, and maybe, just maybe, it had been about proving something to himself as well.

That he hadn't done this just because she had been about to marry another man...a Genii too! Just thinking about it a day ago would have riled him up, but now... Maybe he was too physically tired after the mission. Maybe you just couldn't stay that mad at someone that long.

No, he had with his Dad. He was still angry with him.

So maybe he just couldn't stay mad at her that long.

After all, even after everything that had happened, how she had pushed him away, she was still so beautiful to him stood proud and strong in the Bay.

He met and held her gaze, holding it, not glancing away uncomfortably or glaring at her – the two things he had spent doing the last few days. Now he just looked back at her, something inside calmer, but somewhat empty.

"May we speak?" She asked, faintly indicating the exit out of the Bay to her left and his right.

In another time, he would have used her question as a chance to tease and flirt with her, using insinuation and humour that he knew she enjoyed, but those days were gone now.

"Sure," he agreed.

He supposed he knew this conversation would arrive eventually. So much had happened, and they had said so much, most of it unkind, to each other. He kind of regretted some of the things he'd said, but he knew he'd only responded to her and the situation. The whole marriage thing had thrown him off badly, even led to him offering to marry her and tie Atlantis and the whole of Earth into a political contract without talking to anyone about it first. If he kept his job after this it would be a miracle, which was again why he hoped this successful mission would prove something.

But, with Teyla...things were still up in the air.

This conversation had been days coming, and he had no idea what to say in it. He imagined there would be apologies and then silence again. It was clear to him that there was no flirtatiousness in her eyes as she smiled tightly at him as they headed through the exit out of the Bay.

The days of playful fun between them had died the second she had told him about the Political Marriage plan. As much as he could understand her reasoning, could see the value for Atlantis in that same plan now, he was still hurt that she hadn't told him about it until the day before her wedding, and after they had been in bed too. So much of his anger and stubbornness since had been borne from the hurt of that, he could see that clearly now, and it embarrassed him as much as it made him feel that emptiness again.

Even if she had smiled at him now with those sparkling playful eyes he had so enjoyed before, he wasn't sure he could go there again. She'd said they weren't right for each other, that she didn't want him in her life – how was he supposed to take that?

How could he trust her now? The affair had meant to be short-lived, but they'd let it go on, had let it grow into something that had set John on fire the second she had told him about her marriage. It was never supposed to have been that intense, this intense.

They had made it to the transporter without sharing a word between them, but that was okay for John, he wasn't sure what the hell to say and since she seemed the one wanting this conversation now, he'd just see what she had to say. If nothing else, he would get to sit down and maybe sleep again soon.

He saw her press the symbol for the floor of her quarters. "We're not picking up Ketra?" He found himself asking, since the dragon was probably in the Hydroponics Bay. She usually was when Teyla was off the ship, and he remembered Teyla telling him that it was the safest place for Ketra on the ship during a battle. She could hide in the trees and feel safe.

"I will collect her later," Teyla replied.

"Is she okay after the battle?" John checked, the elevator moving subtly around them.

"Halling checked on her for me. He said she was a little shaken, but in good health," she replied, her voice polite Elite, but there was a distraction there that told him that she wasn't overly looking forward to this conversation either.

Was she going to end the Political Marriage?

The thought arrived through his tired brain and made him start to worry a little. She wouldn't break up what she had been so determined to create in the first place, would she? Unless she really didn't want to have him around anymore...

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He waited for her to leave first and then fell into step with her down the corridor.

It was quiet on this floor now, probably because everyone else was hurrying around repairing the ship, or maybe more likely they were asleep or having their breakfast in the canteen, as Ford was doing.

The door to Teyla's quarters arrived in front of him without him really having paid attention to getting there.

Teyla triggered open the door and stepped inside.

Unsurprisingly, the place didn't look quite the same as when they had left it. Everything that had been freestanding was on the floor and at the far end of the room. John's spare bed was on its side and further away from the large central coffee table than normal. He focused on crossing the room picking it up and putting it back in its place, while Teyla headed to the far wall and was picking up her falling things. Fortunately, John had kept all his stuff in his backpack and had tied it closed, so all his stuff was still inside as Teyla handed it back to him. He pushed it back under his bed.

"Anything broken?" He asked as she gathered up an armful of her Athosian ornaments.

"Only one," she replied. "I've already repaired it twice," she commented. "I should really take it to Tjaru instead."

His bed in place, the covers back over it, he watched as she returned the slightly broken ornament to its place in the corner. He wondered why she had them out if they were going to be broken in a battle. It was almost as if she didn't care, or refused to put it away because then the Wraith won in that tiny way – yeah, that would be more in keeping with the Elite woman in front of him.

His wife.

He sat down on the side of his bed, knees almost against the coffee table's edge, and sighed.

He felt really tired, not just physically.

Surprisingly, she moved around the other side of the coffee table and sat down on the couch directly opposite him. He noted that the couch hadn't moved an inch, so suspected it was bolted to the floor. He might suggest that for his bed...not that he'd probably be sleeping in here again. He wasn't sure he could take it.

He watched as she set her ornaments onto the table, not that they belonged there, but he guessed she wanted that talk now.

Silence reigned.

"I need to apologise to you," she said softly, quietly.

There was nothing Elite in her voice, and he looked up from the ornaments to her face. She looked tired, or sad, or something. He felt a rush of worry about her, but he pushed it down. He was so quick to respond to her. He needed to stop that. She'd been the one to hurt him. She'd started all this.

But she was saying sorry now.

He wished that felt like enough.

"You did what you thought best for your people," he found himself saying, spilling out words she had used, and he kind of hated himself a little for being so understanding.

He looked down at the table surface and reached out to brush away a layer of dust that had collected on the surface near him. It was probably after the gravity shift, everything had been shaken up and the dust settled afterwards.

How poetically appropriate.

Where was the dust going to settle now between them though?

"I handled matters poorly," she continued. "I spoke disrespectfully to you, and reacted inappropriately."

He glanced at her face again. She was looking at the surface of the table herself now, and she looked sad. Really sad. Something squeezed in his chest. Was she going to end the marriage?

"I should have spoken to you sooner about my decision to marry, explained myself more calmly and," she paused, taking a breath. "I should have understood the significance to you in my marrying a Genii."

He hadn't expected such a thorough apology, but he held still waiting to see what she would say next. She'd thrown a shock announcement on him before, and he wasn't beyond believing now that she would do so again. That she'd break his heart again.

"At least," she looked at him, "now you can feel more comfortable as regards the Genii. They will not dare move against you now." Her voice was stronger with that, as if she was making a determined promise. "To do so would be to attack the Elite directly. The Elite protect you from the Genii now."

The relief that this meant she wasn't going to dissolve the marriage was a wash over him, but then followed another wash of tiredness. He kind of understood now how she had felt back in that corridor in Tjaru when she had sounded at him to leave her alone, to get out of her life. He wished in this moment that things weren't this hard, that his happiness wasn't so foolishly focused on her and her decisions. He missed the days of their easy, flirtatious friendship. He shouldn't have kissed her that first time, or at least shouldn't have indulged in his desire for her again on Pelydr, and then all through the months after.

He'd been enamoured by her, had lost his way, and in that truth, he kind of understood why she had wanted distance.

He kind of wanted it now too.

But he was relieved she didn't want the marriage to end, and not just because it was right for Atlantis.

"I'm sorry too," he said back tiredly. "Things kind of got out of hand." It was a mild summary, but it seemed to hit a chord with her because a soft pained smile moved her lips.

He found himself smiling back and then chuckling as he closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath. He felt tired, on so many levels, but he was also aware that he had no barriers up anymore. He was laid bare.

"I got angry," he found himself saying. "And you were right," he admitted as he opened his eyes again, "I didn't just make the offering because it was good for Atlantis. I didn't want you to just push me aside, and for a _Genii_," he added with more feeling.

She nodded, her eyes lowering and then returning to meet his again. There was something new about her, something very open and vulnerable. Maybe she was feeling as open and honest as he was. Even in their most intimate and playful moments, she'd still been the poised Teyla and careful with words and teasing. This Teyla now, like him right now, seemed without walls.

"I tend to lose people," he found himself saying, the words so honest that he shocked himself with the truth of them.

She nodded as if she understood, and maybe she did. She lost people all the time as an Elite.

"I believe," she paused, her eyes straying away as if she were struggling with something, "that we both were...unprepared," her gaze slid back to him, "for how much feeling would grow between us."

He felt a rush of new relief, of something easing in his chest as he nodded.

"It frightened me," she confessed. Were her eyes wet? She glanced aside. "I had started to choose to spend time with you over my duties."

He held still, every part of his being focused on her, listening to her.

"Then Kari was killed," she swallowed. "We were recruits together, served together for so many years."

He wanted to say something to make things better for her, but he knew how she felt, all too well. There was nothing he could say.

"And I blamed myself for not having been on the mission to the Glisi world with her."

A tear dribbled down her cheek.

He'd never seen her like this before. So...vulnerable, so real, so human.

He leant forward, debating whether he should move round to sit beside her, hold her hand...but he got the feeling she wouldn't want that. He wasn't sure if it would be right between them right now.

"I blamed myself for her death," she concluded.

It all made a lot more sense to him in that confession. He had maybe realised there was a link before now, but now he understood.

He'd made a choice years ago to save someone, to go back into enemy territory to save someone important to him and he'd lost that gamble. He knew what it was like to lose by making the wrong decisions for what had felt like the right reasons.

"Even though," she added, "I know that Wraith Queen is to blame for Kari' death, and that any Elite could fall in any battle-"

He looked down, fear and worry for her real in his middle. He wished he was used to worrying about her, not knowing if she was safe with the Elite while he was in Atlantis, but he was never going to get used to it was he.

"It was that I _chose_ to not be on a mission, because I preferred to be with you," she continued. "It was the wrong decision, and even though I could never have known how vital that particular decision was to be, I will still be haunted by that decision."

He held her eyes. "If you had been on that mission," he suggested, "maybe you would have been killed."

She nodded, brushing the trail of tears from a cheek. "I know, and I know that my fears are not entirely logical, but the Elite are taught to keep away from emotional ties because they _do_ distract."

"Teyla," he replied quickly, "You love Halling, Si, and Oneakka just as much as-" He stopped himself from saying "me".

"It is different," she replied, understanding him and, he couldn't help notice, had not corrected him about the term 'love'. His heart pounded a couple of times, vibrating in his chest.

"We are both warriors," she added. "I know you understand my fears. That...loving each other is perhaps not enough."

He glanced away. How could finding out someone loved you and admitting the same be so painful? It shouldn't be like this.

"I wanted distance from you so that I could...be the warrior I was before," she carried on. The explanation wasn't needed as he understood why she had done what she had done.

"But you chose me at the Offering Ceremony," he interjected.

She nodded and smiled a somewhat pain-filled smile at him.

"Because it was politically the right thing to do," he finished. They had been his words practically, his argument in that side room off the marriage stage in Tjaru. He had pushed her with his political arguments, pretending it hadn't been about him wanting to stop her marrying someone else, about making him too important to her to throw away.

"No," she objected softly.

He looked back up at her.

"You were right," she said, "I didn't like Maloo."

He nodded at the confirmation he hadn't needed.

"But, even if it had been another offer from another world, from someone I could have married comfortably, I am not so sure I would have chosen them over you." He watched her carefully, surprised, hopeful. "Choosing Atlantis really was the best for both our peoples, but if Mr Woolsey had made the offer-"

He chuckled at the idea, relieved at her own smile.

"I am not sure I would have taken it," she pulled a face. "I do not know."

"I think," he considered, "you and Woolsey would have made a good couple."

She laughed, though it was a light tired laugh. She was smiling though, laughing with him.

Her smile altered back to serious quickly though, but that openness, that raw Teyla looked back at him still.

"I do not know what to do, John," she confessed.

"I don't know either," he confessed back.

"We are in the best political position for our peoples," she stated and he nodded. "We work well together, have much to offer the war against the Wraith." He nodded again. "But, I am afraid that my loving you will compromise my ability to do my work as an Elite warrior. And I have feared the same with my family. Growing closer to them this last year has brought me great happiness, but fear too. Iketani saw that weakness and she almost took them from me."

"But you saved them," he pointed out.

"With your assistance," she corrected.

"Working together again," he concluded.

"It seems that fate continues to bring us together," she frowned slightly.

"Or you just can't keep away from me," he added, having to add some injection of humour again. And it did just what he wanted, it made her smile again.

She let out a laughing, sighing breath and rolled her eyes. She sat back on the couch, as if sitting upright was too much now. Slumped in her seat, he realised he had never seen her like that. She nearly always sat upright and collected, even during their 'fun times'.

Had she been on guard and not been quite herself with him before? Had he been himself with her? Completely?

"I do not know how to make this marriage work, John," she continued from her slumped, somewhat dejected position. "I know that together we are stronger, but that we distract each other. I do not know if that is wise."

He nodded. "Yeah," he found himself agreeing. "But, if we're going to be spending the rest of our lives together, are you going to be able to keep your hands off me?" He asked, aware he was falling on teasing and humour to cover up what he really wanted to say.

She gave him a smiling glare that made him feel a bit better, a little bit.

If they did end up returning to their relationship again, would she throw him away again if she found herself feeling uncomfortable again? He didn't think he could deal with all this again.

Silence returned as John found himself looking at her ornaments again, all gathered together on the dusty tabletop.

He felt as confused as she looked, as she admitted to be. He knew she meant a lot to him, that he had somewhere along the way fallen in love with her, properly so that he'd even done something as stupid as sign a Political Marriage contract without permission. But, the real life around them was far more complicated. They lived dangerous lives, separately and when together. They both knew the other led them to make some questionable decisions, so was it best to go back to friendship? To take sex out of the equation and just... Was it that simple? Even as 'just' her friend again, he was now her husband and he loved her perhaps just as much now, looking at her slumped and openly confused expression, as ever before.

"Maybe," he suggested into the silence, "We should just start over."

She frowned her silent question.

"Just take things as they come along," he continued, not quite sure himself what he wanted, but he felt they had to do something here. "We've got our set contract time together now, either here or in Atlantis, wherever, and we just go with the flow."

"Go with the flow?" She echoed back, not knowing the Earth phrase.

"Yeah," he explained, "like if you fall in a river, sometimes you've just got to float along and let the flow of the water take you where it's going. There's no point fighting it, trying to swim out, just relax and...maybe do a little bit of steering around some rocks."

She frowned but looked interested in his weak, half-formed suggestion.

"I don't know what I want either, Teyla," he confessed. "I don't know how to make this work, or if it should. But, I think we work well together." He smiled at her, aware he had put a little bit of flirtation in that last point.

She was sat upright again, listening to him, and she smiled again. "That was never the issue."

He grinned back, pleased at that. "Thank you."

"I played a part too," she responded.

"I remember," he replied with feeling.

She glanced away and sat back again. "I am not sure how-"

A bleep from the far wall cut through her words, drawing both of them around towards where her wall screen lit up. A second later a crackle from the com unit on the wall next to it buzzed.

"_Honoured Elite, Emmagan,_" the voice called.

Teyla was up and across to the unit quickly, but John held still on the bed.

"Emmagan, here," she replied into the unit.

"_A high level link is incoming for you from Athos_," the voice responded. "_Putting it through to your station now_."

"Thank you," Teyla replied before she turned and reached up to her screen.

She pressed a few buttons and John was about to offer to leave, but abruptly Torren's face filled the screen.

"Father," Teyla greeted him.

"Teyla, I am pleased to see you," Torren smiled wide, but John could tell something was up. "We heard of the great victory, I am relieved to see you well."

"I am fine," Teyla reassured him.

"Good," Torren's eyes slid from her though and focused past her. "Is John with you?"

John wasn't sure if that was his cue to move into view or further away from it.

"Yes," Teyla responding glancing round at John.

John smiled at her attention and got up, moving around the coffee table so that Torren could see him.

"John," Torren said instantly. "I have news from Atlantis for you."

John paused at the end of the coffee table, eyes fixed on Torren's face.

"I had tried to contact you earlier, but was told you had not yet returned from the mission."

"What's happened?" John asked worried.

"We were scheduled to contact Atlantis yesterday morning to discuss a few points more on the contract and a new trading item, but we were unable to gain a lock with their Portal," Torren explained. "We kept trying on an hourly basis and finally made contact with them yesterday evening. It appears that there had been a serious incident in the city, but matters are now under control."

John pressed his lips together. What had happened that Atlantis hadn't been able to use the Gate for hours? Or had they purposefully shut off the Gate?

"Colonel Carter reports that the city is fine, but has requested that you and Lieutenant Ford return to Atlantis as _soon_ as you are able."

John nodded immediately. Something big had happened. He was almost packed up, he would need to get Ford, find a way to a Gate somehow.

"I do not know all the details," Torren continued, "but apparently there have been some fatalities."

John snapped his attention back to Torren, a cold rush passing over his skin. "Who?"

"I am afraid I do not have that information, John," Torren replied apologetically. "But I had the impression from Colonel Carter that you both need to return quickly."

John nodded quickly. "Thank you, Torren," he told the man who was now his Father-in-Law.

Teyla had been tapping away on the side of the video screen and looked round. "There is a scheduled transport due to leave for the nearest Portal in less than an hour from now. I am adding you and Lieutenant Ford to the list."

John nodded again. "Thanks," he was feeling a little out of place. "I'll get Ford and we'll be through the Gate in less than an hour," he told Torren.

"I shall contact Atlantis for you," Torren replied. "Let them know that you are both safe and will be there shortly. Feel free to use the Athos Portal as a halfway point to Atlantis if you do not feel comfortable dialling direct to Atlantis from where you are."

"Thank you," John repeated.

"Hopefully all will be well," Torren added. "I shall speak with you later, Teyla?"

"We shall speak later," Teyla promised smiling at her Dad before the line cut out.

John turned away, seeking out his bag. He'd put it under the bed. "I need to get Ford sorted. He's down in the canteen. He'll need to pack up.

Who had died? He knew it wasn't Colonel Carter because Torren had talked to her. Was it Rodney? Lorne? Carson? Someone else? All of them?!

"You should maybe eat something before you leave," Teyla suggested.

"Maybe," John agreed as he checked he really did have everything in his backpack. "I'll grab something when I go pick up Ford."

"I shall accompany you," Teyla added, picking up her sword from where she had set it down to one side.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder as they moved towards the door, at which point he realised their discussion had been cut short. He paused.

"I'm sorry to run out on you, on my time on the Sythus," he offered.

"It does not matter," she assured him, her Elite tone back in play a little again. "I think we both understand that our scheduled time together will have to be flexible. I believe that other political couples tally the time shared towards the end of each year, to assess how much has been used and needs to be made up."

He smiled at that. "I imagine we're one of the more unusual couples out there."

She smiled back up at him, her eyes softening again. "That we are, but I think your suggestion is the best way forward. To see how matters flow."

He nodded, pleased that finally things were better; not as they were, but better.

The moment held between them as they looked at each other.

Before they would have kissed, hugged, or more when about to leave their private alone time to go back into the public areas of the city or wherever they were. Now though, things were different.

He wanted to lean in to kiss her, but...

It felt different between them, no way as comfortable, but he wasn't going to just walk away so simply. Not without some reconnection again.

He leant in towards her. He didn't reach for her, didn't step in close as he would have done before. It didn't feel that way right now. But, he did lean in enough to bring his mouth close to hers.

She didn't move away, but he felt her hesitancy as much as his own.

He leant forward the remaining few inches and pressed his lips to hers in a soft, almost polite kiss.

Except, even that was full of a rush of familiarity.

She pressed back, her lips warm and soft, meeting him equally in the kiss.

There wasn't a desperate sexuality in the kiss as there always had been before, instead it felt different...softer as much as it was simple.

He pulled back from the soft, short, closed-lipped kiss and held a few inches from her, all his focus on the difference he was feeling.

He saw her eyelids open and she looked up at him. He held her gaze and looked at her, really looked at her. She held his direct look, her dark eyes already dilated looked deep and black, like a well of something powerful and achingly familiar and gentle behind them.

Her eyes moved faintly as she looked up at him, her focus as intent as his own.

He had no idea what was going to happen between them, now or in the future, but right now, he would be happy to stare into her eyes calmly and quietly forever.

She blinked, the moment shifting slightly, and he saw her smile softly, before glancing away.

He glanced away as well, the moment broken, but the echo of it remained in him, making him feel warm.

It took him a moment to remember that he had something important to do – to go find Ford, get some food and get back to Atlantis. The nervous worry for Atlantis returned and he pressed the control to the door that was on his side of the closed doorway. It slid open and he glanced at Teyla beside him before he stepped out.

He wished he had kissed her again, but the moment was gone now.

He just hoped he would get to kiss her again.

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TBC


	56. The Free One

**Note:** Thank you guys for the reviews - glad people are still reading. It's been a long ride this one, but thanks for sticking around. Almost near the end now. Only a few chapters left, but there almost weren't any posted this weekend following my laptop's prolonged stay with the repairman. Fortunately it's all fixed (and running better than before), so here are two new chapters for the weekend.

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**Chapter 56 – The Free One**

Oneakka enjoyed tattooing – it involved precision, a freeing artistic expression, and it permanently celebrated the bravest of actions. He'd tattooed a large number of his Elite colleagues over the years, not just those on the Sythus, and a small share of civilians. He had no idea how many markings he had inked over the years – he hadn't kept count, and that wasn't the point anyway. Markings were not about counting achievements, they were about honouring a tradition that went back to the very first Elite warriors: Sythus and Hastos. The tradition was to take what had been a Wraith Queen's unique markings and changing them enough to make them a symbol of victory of evil. Then everyone looking at an Elite would see that there was hope, that the Wraith were not indestructible. In that way, the Elite themselves then become the symbol, showing the galaxy at large that things could change.

And change was part of what this particular tattoo symbolised. That truth had struck him during one of his earliest sketches for the design. Not long after Seeal had killed the Queen, when he had taken himself out of the Healing Bay following the Quantum's affects, he had indulged in the ritual of working with the Queen's markings that he had seen. He had already formed the idea of turning the small individual marking shapes into more feather-like forms. Of course, Seeal had been a criminal at that point and had recently just been released from the Sythus, so he had never entertained the idea that he would use the tattoo ideas.

But then she had returned and started to show her hidden nature, the hidden parts of honour in her, that like the separated feather pieces in the tattoo, had been gathering together to form a new cohesive form of the woman she could now become. Despite her start in life, her unwise decisions over the years, she had shown herself to be honourable. She now had full freedom of choice before her. She could do anything, could finally be free. She could now live a life in peace and security in Alliance territory.

Though, the idea of this woman actually living a quiet simple life was rather ridiculous. It wasn't her nature, clearly, but oddly part of him rather wished that she would. That she would live a 'normal' safe life. A life she had been denied at the start of her life.

Getting to know her over these past weeks he knew without doubt that, whatever she did with her life from this point onwards, it would not be meek and quiet. She wasn't designed to be that way. She was too active, too intelligent, and just plain too mischievous to live a calm life of a farmer or a businessman's quiet wife.

He smiled at the foolish thought as he wiped away the latest layer of blood and ink sitting across her skin on which he was working. He lifted his foot from the control pedal under the marking chair ceasing the buzzing vibration of the machine in his hand. The marking chair was not a normal 'chair', it was a piece of Elite construction that allowed the warrior receiving a tattoo to be comfortable while any part of their body was inked. It could be set at any height, the head, back, and each leg support could be separately angled to their own individual height and placement, and arm rests pulled out from underneath. It did not look overly appealing however, and Seeal had referred to it as a "torture chair" upon first seeing it. But, it was well padded and well designed. After all, some markings took considerable time to complete, which required hours spent in one position, usually a difficult one to help stretch the skin being tattooed.

Though, Oneakka had tattooed people in far less sanitary and comfortable situations quite adequately. He had his own miniaturised needling machine that he carried with him off the Sythus which allowed him to apply a marking on a fellow warrior after a battle. Often, in the long empty waiting times after a battle, designing and inking a tattoo could pass time and help distract those watching.

He'd even tattooed a man from another galaxy, Oneakka mused as he recalled putting a marking on Sheppard's shoulder. No one else had probably inked someone from another galaxy before. He had liked that particular winged design. He had his favourites over the years – markings he had designed or had designed for him – but currently, this latest tattoo was his favourite.

It worked well artistically, using the former Wraith markings as feathers, the many different small feathers flowing up and together to form the raven. The symbolism worked well, the pieces of Seeal, her strengths coming together to mark this new being, this new beginning for her. Such a thing was worthy of such honour.

And, of course, the courage and skill she had shown in her killing of the Queen in question. That act, when she had been the Elite's prisoner at the time, had saved both his life and Halling's. He would honour that act anyway, but with the multiple layers of symbolism and meaning, this marking worked especially well.

He wiped at the almost completed design again, removing more blood as it rose from her skin. He had outlined all the small shapes first, which had been the more painful part for Seeal, and now was filling in the shapes, filling in with the deep black ink of the raven, bringing the design to life.

It had been over two hours of work, but he was almost done.

He wiped her skin again, his eyes assessing the latest patch he'd filled. A part needed more.

He leant in, set the machine buzzing again, and set the fast moving needle to her skin.

The marking worked well with the placement she'd chosen – high up on her side, running up from the back of her ribs, up her side, to finish just below her armpit. The shape of her anatomy here, the shape of her ribs and rising up to the softer area under her arm worked really well with the shape of the raven. The separate feathers rising up, gathering at her side and the head of the bird was formed at the top, just beside the top of her left breast.

She was appropriately covered as he worked, the gowns in here just as purposefully designed as the chair. The top she wore tied behind her neck, then down around right under her armpits and then around her waist, leaving her sides and upper back bare. There were various half gowns like this in here, designed to present some modesty and to help those being tattooed stay warm during the marking sessions.

He'd tattooed almost every part of a woman's body just as he had a man's, the person's body in such situations a canvas for him rather than something to be cautious around. But...he'd never had quite such a fragrant tattooing experience before.

She smelt good. It was not just cleansing shower products, this part of a person's body held their natural scent well. Lying on her side on the extended chair, her back to him, her left arm was extended up over her head so that her armpit was bared and open just to the right of his hands as he worked. He'd purposefully made sure his touch was firm and confident, aware that she wasn't probably used to being touched, and especially not in such a delicate area. He understood it was a sign of extreme trust from her that she let him touch her at all. That she let him ink her so close to her breast and soft underarm. So he'd kept his touch firm and professional and she'd quickly relaxed as he worked, despite the needling pain.

Hours at this now, neither of them reacted to the side of his gloved hand nestled partway in her armpit as he worked to get the right angle to add a bit more ink to the penultimate small marking to be filled.

He added some more ink, filling that last patch, and let himself drink in the scent of her again; A delicate, feminine scent, strong by her armpit, but not in any way unappealing.

Just as she had gotten past him touching her delicate vulnerable side to work, he'd gotten somewhat used to the soft cloud-like spell that her scent and the edge of her soft covered breast created. It was an arousing feeling, but it wasn't the same as the electric intensity of before. This work was about her marking, about honouring what she had done, honouring the woman she had become. And to thank her in his own way for the act that had saved Halling and himself.

Talking with her in his quarters earlier had been easier than he had expected – she was clearly going to take up Edfu's offer, so she was leaving. He wasn't going to have to deal with the feelings she had stirred, so he had felt more comfortable about this strange attraction. In fact, knowing that she was leaving perhaps allowed him to enjoy the fragrant place at her side, drinking in the honouring and intimate event of marking her side. She had certainly been her usual verbally playful self today, and he had decided to simply let himself enjoy her company this last time.

That said, he was more than aware that he was going to miss their 'discussions'. What he'd previously felt as challenging and irritating in her attitude, he could now recognise that he found deeply appealing. She challenged his boundaries, uncomfortably in many respects, but there was something of a common nature between them. They both were people of action, of speaking their mind, and he was going to miss challenging her as much as she challenged him.

And she was more confident in that challenging now. Back in his quarters, she had pointed her finger at him and ordered him about, though there had been a clear sparkle in her eyes and a playful tilt to her body.

That boldness and a unique power to her that he had not seen in another woman before, had had a very direct arousing affect on him. He could still feel it simmering inside him, her scent and her soft skin adding to it, but she was leaving soon, so it was alright to indulge. A little.

Being this close to her, right in close to her skin, breathing her in, marking her skin permanently, it was definitely enjoyable. Tattooing hadn't been like this before and he suspected wouldn't be again.

He wiped away more ink and blood, turning to reach for the antiseptic cleanser to clean the marking again. He wiped over her dampened skin again, cleaning the marking continuously to keep it clear of anything that might infect the open wound that was a new tattoo. Another spray of cleanser and he wiped her skin again, studying the last part of the marking to be filled. He had left this part till the end on purpose. It wasn't a large area, but was decisively important – the head of the raven.

He glanced up from her side towards her face, checking she was still alright.

Unusually, she hadn't said anything for perhaps the last hour, and he'd been happy to work in silence. They both wanted him to focus on his work with skill, but he was also aware that a new atmosphere had settled around them at some point. It was quiet and comfortable – not unlike when they had sat in his quarters two nights ago and worked on tinkering with tech alongside each other. Yet, this quiet also held an almost poignant air as well – at least it did for him.

"Last part," he reported to her, his voice quiet though he hadn't intended it to be.

They had the marking room to themselves, so no one else would hear, but with the doorway open directly into the Healing Bay it felt like someone could overhear. Not that they had been completely alone. Madesh had appeared a few times, entering quietly and respectfully, understanding the importance of marking. He'd been concerned about Seeal's health after yesterday, but she'd reassured him. He'd gone, but returned an hour or so ago, reporting that both Transport Craft had exited the nebula and were returning to the ship.

Oneakka had been relieved to hear that the others were safe, though unfortunately one security member had been lost in a battle with the Wraith. It could have been worse, and Oneakka was pleased to learn that Sheppard had returned intact. Madesh had appeared again though not all that long ago, bringing some tea and food for Seeal and him, but Oneakka had ignored the offering.

Madesh had disappeared again, promising to return to tell them when Seeal needed to leave to get to her seat on the Fleet Transport Craft that would take her and others down to the local Portal.

Oneakka glanced aside at the time displayed close by. They didn't have much time to finish this marking, but it would be just enough.

He wiped over her skin again with the cloth, focusing on the last area of her outlined skin ready to be filled with ink, then the tattoo would be complete and she would leave.

"This is last area," he lightly touched the area of skin with one gloved fingertip, indicating for her that the area was high up and likely the most sensitive.

He saw her nod, but her eyes were still closed. She definitely seemed overly quiet and thoughtful. He wondered if she was contemplating her future just as he was for her.

He leant in and set the buzzing needle to the last patch of bare skin, just under her armpit and just shy of the edge of the gown's seam closely outlining her breast.

He felt her flinch very slightly, but it was normal with such a sensitive area. He worked carefully, the heel of his hands resting on her ribs as he held her skin tight with one hand and worked the needle machine with the other. Her body warmth was familiar now under his touch, even through the surgical gloves were a barrier, but he drew in a breath of her scent again as he leant closer, focusing intently on the last part of his work.

He moved the needle carefully, debating whether to leave a tiny patch free to indicate the middle of the symbolic area of the raven's eye. He filled in the area around that point first to see if it would work – he could fill it in at the end if it didn't work.

She shifted her left arm against her head where she had it draped up out of the way. He shifted his gaze to her face again as he wiped the cloth over her skin, seeing that her eyes were open now. She was glancing up at her left hand, flexing it, no doubt to get some blood flowing into it again. Or perhaps it was to ease the bruises across her palms. After yesterday, her hands no doubt hurt, but she seemed comfortable enough still in the chair so he returned the needle to her skin.

Moments stretched as he filled in the last of the raven, filling in her nice mid-toned skin with the black ink of her new identity. Or rather her true freed identity.

She was free now, she had all the options she had wished for, yet she had no home, no anchor, no place of her own yet.

His own original home was destroyed, though admittedly the Ugun planet itself still existed, but nothing lived there anymore. The ground was scarred dead, and though some small sprouts of the hardest plants were returning here and there, it was essentially gone. All his people were gone.

Though Seeal's people still existed, presumably still alive and well living deep in their dark snow-filled forest, she had no place with them. She didn't belong there anyway. She was meant for greater things, to do greater things than huddle in the cold as an outcast.

He wondered, as he wiped blood and ink away, if her people would have any more respect for her now. Now she held an Elite marking, now she had proven herself an honourable warrior? Though if the Glisi were half as stubborn as both Ulfur and Seeal herself were, then Oneakka suspected the Glisi wouldn't change their mind. Part of him wanted to go find them and tell them about her, make them understand what strength and intelligence they had thrown away as cursed. Make them see that she didn't, and hadn't, needed them. That despite the cruelty of the Glisi, she had eventually pulled herself out of the muck and was now standing tall.

Tall and proud, but alone. At least for the time being she would be working at the Training Facility. She would have purpose and likely design half the security system herself, or more. She would be a shock to the Facility, and many of the recruits might resent her presence. He predicted that some of the more stupid of them might even try to do something about it. They'd learn, quickly. The other coders would learn how good she was too, how talented. Edfu had called her a 'genius'.

And her people had wanted to throw her away.

He really would like to visit those Glisi, show them what life was like outside the cold safety of their Wraith-free forest.

He wiped her skin again, absorbing the excess ink and exuded blood, and leant back into her fragrant space, filling in the last part of the raven. A glance at the time told him little remained.

He thought he heard movement near the open doorway – probably Madesh lingering around, waiting to say goodbye to Seeal as she left, but Oneakka ignored any interruption as he focused on finishing her marking.

It was all done now but the tiniest patch where the central shine of the raven's pupil could be left bare. He wiped the marking over, contemplating whether to leave the tiny patch for the eye or to fill it in.

He decided to leave it, leaning in just to outline it a little clearer. It was a tiny detail, probably lost to anyone who wasn't looking intently at it - not that he liked the idea of anyone being that close to this delicate feminine area – but she would notice the detail. She'd clearly seen the overall shape to the markings, seen the raven in the pattern.

He'd felt a little self-conscious showing her the design, feeling that the beauty of the design had revealed too much of his unexpected affections. But, he'd wanted her to have the marking, wanted to give her the tattoo to honour her. She had saved Halling and his lives in that forest after all, and the marking formed a circular path from this moment back to the dark Glisi forest where he had first removed her shackles and called her 'Raven'. Now, she really could fly free.

As aggravating as she could be, distracting, and now worryingly enticing, he was going to miss her.

He suspected life was going to be somewhat dull for the first few days without her on the ship. He'd volunteer to go with the Fleet on patrols out from the Nest System to see if they could find any of the Hives that had escaped. That would distract him, keep him busy. The Sythus wasn't going anywhere for a couple of days, so he had time.

Then life would return to normal, or as 'normal' as life could be for the Elite.

He sat back from Seeal's soft side and wiped her skin again, studying the overall design of the completed marking, looking for any last imperfections in his inking. None remained; he had done a thorough job.

It was done.

"It's finished," he told her, still quietly, as he reached for the antiseptic cleanser again. "Just need to clean it and cover it."

"Thank you," she replied, her first words in an hour.

"Want to see it?" He asked as he sprayed and wiped down her side again, making sure to wipe around her back too, catching any blood or ink that had dribbled down. It was oddly intimate, wiping her back. He wasn't sure why.

Maybe because it was a nicely shaped back.

"I think we're out of time," she responded.

He glanced up from her bare skin, away from one of those small scars she sported just at the back of her lower ribs, and he saw that Madesh was indeed lingering in the open doorway.

He felt a burst of angry resentment towards Madesh again and looked away quickly. Only to look at the time display himself. There was hardly any time left.

He reached for the plastic gauze to cover her new marking. "I'll cover it now then after a couple hours you need to wash the area in warm water, then put the ointment I'll give you on it three times a day, more as it heals," he instructed as he secured the plastic covering over the marking, rather regretfully covering it.

He was tempted to take an image of it, as they often did with some markings, but it felt strangely wrong, inappropriate somehow with her. Maybe because he knew he would be tempted to look at the image too often. He had the sketches at least to remember the moment, to remember her.

He focused on securing the edges of the gauze to her skin, adding a bit more tape to hold it in place on her side. He pressed it all down again, leaving the edge up against the side of her breast till last, pressing that part carefully to her skin without touching her breast, even through the gown. After all, it was just the layer of gown and then her bare skin underneath.

He pulled back, pushing his stool away from her and the chair. "All finished," he concluded as he pulled off his surgical gloves and dropped them into the bin along with the bloodied cloths he had used.

She groaned faintly as she sat up, rolling her shoulder, it likely having ceased up from the long inactivity on top of yesterday's battle.

He set out the packets of healing ointment to give her as she sat up fully in front of him, turning her back to him as she moved to get up off the chair. Her long back was entirely bared to him except for thin ties holding the front gown in place.

There was another interesting scar further down her back, just above her right hip. Her nicely rounded hip and backside.

She pushed up off the chair, again groaning and this time muttering.

"At least the torture chair was reasonably comfortable," she uttered as she moved away towards the screen behind which she had left her top and bra.

He turned his stool away from the screen and busied himself cleaning up. "It's not a _torture_ chair," he added, playing their same game and enjoying the last chance to play it.

"So you say," she responded as she dressed.

He focused on his cleaning up.

He had already decided not to go with her to the Transport Bay. Madesh could see her there.

Best to finish it here, giving her the marking, honouring what she had done and her future ahead of her.

He had no time for anything different, and she had her new direction to follow.

A freedom he would never have.

He heard her move out from behind the screen, and he turned his stool back round to see her dressed back in her long sleeved tight shirt, the dark green one he liked. He looked at her left side, judging that the gauze was still in place through the fabric.

"Make sure you keep it clean and use the ointment," he instructed as he set the packets on the chair for her.

She approached and picked them up. "Thank you," she replied as she looked over the packets. He knew the smell of the ointment from a lifetime of familiarity and personal use. He realised it was a smell that he associated with endings. Tattoos only ever followed the end of battles. The aftermath - and it was the same now.

He frowned at his own sullen mood and overflowing introspection of the moment.

Madesh shifted back into the doorway. "The Transport will be leaving very shortly," he announced.

Oneakka ignored him and looked up at Seeal from where he remained on his inking stool. "Madesh will see you to the Bay," he told her.

She nodded as if she was either relieved or had expected him to say as much.

But then, why would an Elite warrior see off a visitor? A woman who had been his enemy only a few weeks ago.

That feeling of awkward silence fell between them again, just like up in his quarters. He watched her glance around the room and then back at him.

"I'm almost going to miss this ship," she uttered.

"Just remember the rules," he replied with a smile pulling at his lips.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled as she turned away, reaching for her bag. "Of course I'll behave myself."

She slung the bag's strap over her right shoulder and paused for a beat, as if she was about to say something else.

He focused on her face, the bruise on one cheek now fully flushed with dark colours. It would heal quickly though.

"Fly free, Raven," he uttered, filling the moment with some honesty. It was what he wanted for her.

She smiled, a soft real kind of smile that moved her eyes, but made her look...sad.

She turned away, moving towards where Madesh still hung around in the doorway.

Oneakka was about to turn away, not wanting to watch her leave, but she paused and he looked back up at her.

She studied him for a moment, a sparkle back in her dark eyes. "Can I ask one personal question before I leave?"

Surprised, he nodded, unsure what the question was going to be, but a faint sense of dread rose up in his throat.

She glanced aside, towards Madesh, and then stepped back slightly towards Oneakka, putting her body between him and the doorway.

"That tattoo," she started her voice low. She was going to ask about the raven tattoo he had just made for her.

"The one on your chest," she added though.

He was shocked at the question. When had she seen that marking?

She must have been awake in his quarters when he was dressing one of the last two mornings. Plenty of people had seen his chest bared in training, he had nothing to hide about it, yet that she had seen it and was now asking about that particular marking...

It felt oddly...flattering.

"The symbol," she indicated the location on her own chest, to the left over her heart and above her left breast - close to where his raven tattoo now sat. "It looks like it might be Ugun, your people's language?"

He nodded. She had seen the Ugun books and scrolls in his room and had recognised the style of the writing.

"What does it mean?" She asked, her expression intent and clearly curious.

He held her gaze.

He'd never told anyone other than Halling, and his Elite mentor who had been the one to ink it for him a long time ago. No one else knew, and though it would not be hugely surprising to anyone to learn what it meant, for him it was deeply personal and meaningful.

And painful.

He wore it over his heart for a reason.

Yet, that she asked about it, when no one had ever done before, felt...new.

She was asking something about _him_ as a person, not a warrior, not an Elite, not the symbol he was. She had worked out that it was in his lost language, that it was purposefully placed because of that, and she wanted to know what it meant to him. She was leaving, yet she wanted to know the answer to this one question.

He blinked, feeling a vague wash of vulnerability, which was again something rather new, but he also felt flattered at her question.

And maybe also at the thought of her having unknowingly watched him half-dressed in his quarters.

He wasn't sure what she would think of his answer though, if she would take pity, see him differently, or just dismiss the translation as unimportant once she heard it.

Yet, still, he realised he did not mind telling her.

"It means 'orphan'," he informed her.

Just saying the word brought a wealth of emotions with it, unlocking feelings that he tried not to delve into very often, if at all. After all, he was not only an orphan of his family, but his entire people and culture. No other Uguns lived. He was the very last. An orphan in every sense of the word.

He watched her as she heard him. She drew in a soft breath as she nodded, her expression faintly sad, but she smiled too, seeming to appreciate that he had told her.

"Goodbye, _Honoured Elite_," she said using his honorific title, which she had ignored using on almost every occasion with him and any other Elite warrior.

"Goodbye, Seeal," he replied, using the name she had chosen for herself. 'Free One' and now she was. He was pleased he had been able to help her achieve that.

And as she turned and walked away, glancing back once as she reached the doorway, he realised that she had changed something in him too.

He watched her intently as she glanced back, held her gaze directly for a moment, wondering if he would see her again and abruptly doubting himself for letting her go.

If only he lived another life, one in which he could be free like her.

And then she was gone.

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TBC


	57. Too Many Farewells

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**Chapter 57 – Too Many Farewells**

John was very concerned. It was hardly surprising, given the worrying and rather incomplete information that Father had reported from Atlantis. John had no idea about the safety of his people, his colleagues and closest friends back in the Ancestral City. To hear that there had been fatalities, but not knowing who it might be...she could see the distress in his face and body.

It was a hollow nervous fearful place to be, waiting to hear the depth of disaster, and she exactly what it felt like.

She had led him to the canteen to locate Lieutenant Ford, understanding that the short time to wait until they could leave would feel like a nervous lifetime to them. John had made 'small talk' on the way to the canteen, asking her to say goodbye to Ketra for him, hoping the Sythus would be repaired quickly. She had appreciated the conversation, knowing it was his way of reinforcing the forward movement they had decided upon, but there was still something of an awkwardness between them, and she also understood that his conversation helped him to distract his worried thoughts.

When they had arrived in the canteen they had found that Lieutenant Ford had been in relative high spirits, sitting in deep conversation with a large group of the crew. The younger man appeared to have bonded with several in particular, all of them sharing laughing and dramatic stories from the earlier battle. It was common enough to see, but it was especially pleasing to see the younger Earthman ingratiate himself and combine so well with the crew.

It spoke well as to her enduring hope that those from Earth were as thoughtful and brave as John.

And sharing bad news with a colleague and friend was part of a warrior's bravery. She had broken terrible news to many...she had been the one to tell both Halling and Oneakka that Methren had perished. Unfortunately, telling of unfortunate losses was a common part of an Elite's life.

And it was not just regarding their fellow Elite and military crew.

She continually feared to one day hear news from Athos that something might have happened to her family. Growing closer to them this past year, and in particular reconnecting with Zabetha, she had opened her heart to the love she felt for them. Yet, that love made her vulnerable, and was a soft weak point that might one day be speared through.

She had seen what grief could do, and saw it still to this day achingly clear in Father's eyes. He still missed Mother each day. Whenever she spied him sat alone and lost in his own thoughts away from those of work, there always seemed a sadness to him. It made her own heart ache to think of it, even now while away from him and her family.

To think that she might lose Father, Zabetha, Elkaska, Charin...and now even Rhakshar was taking a place of deep concern in her life. She loved her family, but such love could be painful too.

That pain was no more evident to her than it was today.

Her love for her family now extended to John, in a unique and new way. Though they had not spoken direct words of love, their somewhat pained and mutually confused discussion had made it clear that the love existed on both sides. It was something that neither of them had expected or knew what to do with, for life was far more confusing and difficult than delicate stories of romance and valour repaid with a perfect life. The love that she and John shared was real, but it was a difficult, delicate thing that she was unsure how to handle. At least now she knew that John was in the exact same place of feeling and that he too felt unsure of the path forward, but it seemed that he did wish to move forward. The hope of perhaps rediscovering something of what they had once shared had shimmered in the touch of his lips, but even that felt different.

Felt more...real.

That reality was what brought forth the practicalities and fears of loving. She had set herself on a path in which she loved a man who lived most of his life away from her, in hostile dangerous territory, perhaps to return to his home galaxy at any time, and perhaps to be taken from her in battle any day. Their former romance could perhaps blossom again, tempered this time perhaps, but after her harsh treatment of John, she saw the hollow caution in his gaze.

She wished she could promise him that she would not have to put her Elite life before him again, that one day she would not leave him for a battle and never return, but she could not. For all she knew, her life would not last beyond the week. Neither may his.

The thought of that, of losing him, of hearing the horrific news that he might be soon to hear of colleagues and friends...it was too painful. As a warrior it was her instinct and training to deal decisively with damaging things, but one cannot truly kill love. Even if she had hurt John's feelings to the point of 'killing' his love for her, her own love would remain.

Her treatment of John, her urge to 'kill' the connection between them had been a savage act on her part. She had damaged John and deeply regretted it, yet she was still worried that her Elite training might one day lead her to harm him emotionally again. Even in the simple nature of her being a warrior, that she could die any day, surely was something for him to shy from.

Yet, he had leant in and kissed her.

She had not expected such a sign of affection from him so soon. Despite his smiles and joking behaviour to comfort her and himself, she had seen the hurt and caution in his eyes. Until that point. Why had he kissed her if it did not mean he was willing to love an Elite warrior with all her faults?

It felt a worryingly difficult path ahead, one in which she felt exposed and vulnerable already, but in his kiss, in the gentle touch of his lips, she felt the connection again. A love around which they could move forward, in whatever form it would take.

She had not previously wanted him on the Sythus for this mission, had resented his being here, but now he was leaving she found herself unwilling to see him depart. It would perhaps provide them some thoughtful distance, but she rather wished he could remain. They could sit in her quarters for the rest of the day, talk about idle things and share stories, as they had used to do in their time together before.

Yet, it was not to be. Nothing with John turned out as she expected. At least that was something for certain in their relationship and lives, though it was hardly much.

She glanced over her shoulder now as she led the way towards the Transport Bay. John and Lieutenant Ford walked a step behind her shoulder, John choosing to walk alongside the younger man. Lieutenant Ford had been just as concerned as John, though hid it less, and John was clearly playing the role of the more confident superior. He walked alongside the younger man, formally supplying confident predictions and hopes to settle the man's fears, but they had both now lapsed into silence as they followed her.

She had been tempted to request to go with them, but thought it unlikely that Atlantis would welcome her first official visit as an ally at such a difficult time and when unprepared to accommodate her. No, it was better that she wait to hear back from Atlantis, from John, to hear the fate of his people.

She glanced back at his face again, watching him chew on the inside of his lower lip. She would worry about him. It was hardly new, but hopefully Atlantis was truly secure. The city could at least call upon the Elite for assistance now in difficult circumstances. Though...had that been agreed clearly between Father, the Elite and Atlantis? Once again, she realised how distant and in denial she had been about the practicalities of her Political Marriage. She would have to ensure to speak with Father in more depth and take more active a role now.

She had made the correct choice in selecting Atlantis and John, she was certain of it, but the details and realities would likely be challenging. As was being John's wife. Yet, he had shown her and the other Elite these past days how well suited he was to his new political warrior role.

She just hoped she was as well.

The last turn in the corridor brought them in sight of the entrance to the Transport Bay. She immediately spied Halling and Si stood outside the entrance, both in deep conversation.

She had noted Halling's name on the manifest list for the Transport to the Portal. She had been a little surprised at his departure at this time, but as she had been out of touch as regards events on the ship whilst away she wondered what his trip was regarding.

Halling and Si noticed her, John, and Lieutenant Ford's approach and moved forward to meet them in the open doorway into the Transport Bay.

"Major Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford," Halling greeted them gravely. "We trust that all will be well in Atlantis when you return."

"Thank you, Honoured Elite," John replied politely, respectfully, but with a touch of warmth in his tone that conveyed that he did truly appreciate the words. He was very skilled at that. "Hopefully everyone's okay," he added, seemingly more to himself.

Lieutenant Ford glanced into the Bay, looking more anxious and ready to leave than John.

"This first mission as Political allies has served well," Si put in.

John nodded. "Hopefully the first of many to come."

Si inclined his head in agreement. "I am sure we will see you again soon enough," he added and moved back after sharing a nod with Lieutenant Ford.

Teyla turned her attention to Halling. "You are joining the Transport," she asked subtly.

"I should return in an hour or two," he replied. "I will be back for the late meal at the latest."

She frowned at that clipped and unrevealing response. His answer implied it was a personal mission not one related to current events. Even if that were the case, he hardly needed to excuse himself away to her.

Yet, there was something closed off about him, something that was keeping his gaze from locking with hers directly. He glanced into the Transport Bay again.

"I shall see you later," she offered.

He nodded, looking at her more directly this time. He smiled and moved away, entering the Bay without any further comment.

She frowned at his departing back. Something had not been quite right with her good friend for a number of days, but it seemed matters had not settled. Something personal must be occurring, something she did not know about. He was due all the privacy he wished, but it was unusual for her not to be aware of the details of her close friend's life.

Yet, her instinct told her that what preoccupied him was far more than a simple 'personal' matter. And it was significant enough that he was not sharing it with her.

She glanced round to Si, who remained stood down the corridor, waiting for her but clearly providing the privacy of distance for her farewell with John. Si looked from Halling to her and gave the smallest of shrugs. He did not know what Halling's dark mood and sudden departure were about either.

She frowned back at Halling, seeing that he had reached the Transport and was climbing inside the hatch without pause.

He had passed another familiar face on his way there. Seeal was stood by the Transport, likely off to accept the job position she had been granted to assist in the Training Facility. It was a good choice on her part, and apparently the woman had once again proven exceptionally useful in battle. She was currently securing her bag around her shoulder, seeming to favour her right side – had she hurt her other side in the battle? Seeal nodded to Madesh stood close to her side, but the man reached forward and pulled her into a hug.

Teyla smiled at the abrupt moment of affection that clearly surprised Seeal, but the woman returned the embrace for a moment and then the two parted. The former criminal smiling at her new friend and glancing away.

Teyla found her gaze meeting Seeal's and she nodded her head to the woman. Seeal nodded back, which was very respectful from her. Then Seeal's eyes moved away, playing over the others near Teyla and then away.

She was looking for someone.

Teyla looked around the Bay herself, at least as much as she was able from her current position. Oneakka was not here.

That surprised her, but not as much as seeing Tyoosi appear, stepping forward towards Seeal. Seeal held still as the man said something Teyla had no chance of hearing across the wide and busy Bay. But she saw Seeal's slight smile and her nod. Tyoosi gave the faintest of nods in return and moved away, striding away towards the other exit out of the Bay.

Teyla assumed Tyoosi had not provided a threat or any negative words, as Seeal looked back at Madesh, said something with a smile and then moved to climb up into the hatchway of the shuttle. Just before she moved into the craft itself, Teyla saw her look back quickly out and around the Bay once more.

Teyla glanced round again, but there was still no sign of Oneakka.

She promised herself to find Oneakka later and assess the situation with him. He had let Seeal go after all – Si had been correct.

She realised that John and Lieutenant Ford were in discussion beside her. She looked round as Lieutenant Ford bowed to her, touching a hand to his uniform's cap.

"Honoured Elite," he said with an almost shy smile.

She smiled at him. "I am sure we will see you aboard the Sythus again, Lieutenant."

He grinned at that. "I hope so too, Ma'am."

Then he glanced at John. "I'll go make sure they're holding the Shuttle for us," the younger man commented with a slight smile and moved away, pulling on his backpack as he crossed the Bay.

Teyla had no doubt that the craft would wait for John, after all she had seen the pilot note her across the Bay and John beside her. The Transport would wait for an Elite, but it would not be fair to the transport schedule for her to tarry with John too long.

She finally turned her full attention to John, the time of departing from one another upon them.

"We seem to say goodbye a lot," he said, and it was not the first time he had commented as such.

She smiled at his point, with the subtle underpinnings of meaning, but she was also aware that he too felt the presence of so many in the busy Bay.

"But, we exchange greetings just as frequently," she responded.

He smiled at her point, seeming pleased, which made her pleased in turn. Apart from this ache in her chest. Parting from him was always difficult, and this shared time together had hardly been enjoyable for him.

"I hope all is well in Atlantis," she offered him again. "That all you hold dear are well."

He nodded, worry returning to his expression and she instantly regretted turning the conversation to the negative.

"Do let me know that all is well," she added quickly.

His eyes met hers, his questions clear.

"I am sure Father will be in touch daily to finalise the marriage contract," she continued. "And I can be reached with any details, any messages you need to send to me."

"Okay," he replied, but there was a touch of a frown. "So through your Dad?"

She nodded. "Though if any matter is urgent, Father can set up a link code for you to contact me. We should probably organise authorisation for you," she considered. "I will ensure it is set up, then you can contact me as you may need to in the future." She would like that, to know that he could reach her directly through the Alliance link communication system. "As long as I am not on a blackout link mission," she added.

He nodded. "And you can call Atlantis any time," he added, a half smile on his handsome face. "You've got my number." He frowned at his own words.

"Number?" She asked.

"Gate address," he explained and she nodded, but she felt that perhaps he had read something else into his words. "I guess we sort out the next shared time together through your Dad too."

"Yes," she agreed. "Hopefully all will have settled in Atlantis by that time, but should the city need assistance, do call upon us."

He nodded, glancing away to where Lieutenant Ford stood outside the waiting Transport in conversation with Madesh.

"Guess I've got to go," he looked back at her. "You gonna be hanging around the Nest System? Securing the area?"

"Yes," she replied. "We will need to ensure the Wraith do not retaliate, that we set up new border lines, sentry probes and such."

John nodded, the awkwardness between them lingering. She suspected that he, like her, rather wished that they were alone for this conversation, rather than it being in front of plenty of discreetly watching eyes. So many would be speculating about their marriage – it would be common enough around them now. She had not thought of that, of how she should appear to others when in John's company.

It was always so complicated.

"If you need us to help out," John put into her thoughts, "from our side in Wraith territory, shout."

"I suspect we would have to shout very loud to be heard in Atlantis from here."

He smiled at her joke and she felt a touch of warm reconnection again with him as she looked up into his eyes.

"Please watch where you are walking," she told him, her routine way of both hoping him well and to tease him about how they had first met. How he had fallen down into a slave trapper's muddy pit.

He grinned and pulled a face. "I'll try," he offered. "You take care too." His expression turned serious.

She nodded, wanting to reach up to him, not sure of their physical rules of conduct anymore. So she reached out a hand towards him, their first way of saying goodbye. They had used to shake hands on saying goodbye, in the days before they had become lovers, when he used to stroke his thumb over the back of her hand where once he had kissed the back of her fingers.

He took her hand in his now willingly, his grip secure, warm, and holding longer than normal for the Earth tradition.

"I'll see you soon," he offered, but as his grip loosened she found herself squeezing his fingers again, and his grip closed around her fingers, the handhold oddly more intimate now it was just fingers and fingertips held between them.

He smiled, his grip squeezing hers before they finally let go of each other. "Say 'bye to Ketra for me," he reiterated from earlier as he stepped back and away.

"I shall," she promised as he turned away.

He moved away from her into the Bay, but looked back over his shoulder and winked one eye playfully at her.

Amused and oddly touched at the action, she felt better as he proceeded away from her, moving around people across the Bay as he headed towards Lieutenant Ford and a clearly impatient Transport pilot.

She watched as John reached the pair, no doubt offering conciliatory casually kind words of apology to the pilot. The man nodded and gestured towards the open side hatch, hurrying them inside.

Lieutenant Ford climbed up into the hatch first, the pilot after him, while John took a moment to shake Madesh's hand. Then he too was putting a boot on the lip of the hatchway, ready to leave her again.

Of all the things that could have happened during this mission, this was the best outcome. Either of them could have been killed on the mission, their angry hurt words to each other from their arguments on Athos might have continued here, or they might simply have turned cold shoulders to each other to go with the distancing that she had originally desired. Instead, they were both alive, the mission was a success, the battle won, and they were both committed to ensuring that their new Political Marriage would hold.

What that would look like, how she would manage it, she had no idea. But, as she watched her husband climb into the Transport, she felt deeply grateful for him and the chance to find out what their marriage might become.

He paused inside the hatch and looked back at her once more, lifting a hand in farewell. She instinctively lifted her own hand, showing him her palm, mimicking his gesture, and he smiled before he disappeared inside.

The hatch slid shut and the vessel immediately began to lift up, the pilot impatient indeed to leave. Bay personnel were hurrying aside, Madesh moving away with what looked like a heavy head. Teyla suspected he would miss his new friend in Seeal.

The Transport began to move backwards out of the Bay, lights flashing with warning, and Teyla watched the craft slip through the atmospheric forcefield and into space outside the Sythus.

She held still through it all, watching the vessel until it banked fully out of view, heading out across the system to the local Portal.

She hoped all would be well in Atlantis, that John had not lose anyone too dear to him, and that soon, very soon, she might see her husband again.

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TBC


	58. Son of Athos

**Chapter:** 58/60

**Note:** Well, finally, here are the last 3 chapters. This fic is now complete! I started posting this fic back in February, so somehow it's been 9 months of posting! How did that happen? Where has this year gone?

I am so very grateful to all those reading this for your patience in sticking with this very long fic. Thank you for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoyed the ride. It's particularly fitting for me to complete a fic today, as yesterday I got to meet Mr Joe Flanigan in person at the Cardiff Film &amp; Comic Con! He's so much taller in person!

Not sure what he would make of my version of the Atlantis story in this AU, but I certainly enjoy it, and I hope you have too. So, here we go...

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**Chapter 58 – Son of Athos**

The soft wind danced across the tops of the trees before Sitayi, flowing down into the majestic view of the valley below. Through the soft summer warmth, she could see the affect of the winds out across the very distant red sand lowlands. She could see the moving sand, the wind lifting spirals of it up into the air, dancing them along across the plains.

She watched the patterns in complete silence, not having spoken a word all day to any living thing. Instead, she simply watched the shifting natural flow of life around her from her isolated overview. The only sound beyond the wind moving around her, stirring the tall overarching tree branches behind her and the soft tree tops of the valley slope below, was the delicate ringing of the metal chimes. She had tied the chimes up in the high branch many long years ago; in truth she could not remember how many years ago it had been. They had remained up there since, practically a part of the tree now, its branch having enfolding the cords supporting the chimes, and the chiming chorus was simply a normal part of the retreat space.

She only stayed in this isolated place occasionally, when most in need of time alone. Time to reflect and allow some distance from others, thereby allowing her gift to lessen a little bit. She valued her natural skills and great gift, but it was, sometimes, quite consuming.

Especially after the convergence.

Not that it was quite over in truth, or at least not her experience of it. The timelines were settled, the way ahead now in motion, but she did not yet know which timeline was the future before them all. She had witnessed so many during her experience of the convergence, so powerful had it been that it had taken her to the brink of death as her conscious had experienced all possible futures all at once. Seeing and feeling all those moments all together had been consuming, devouring, and had almost exploded her soul.

She had known it would not end her life though; she knew that she would live beyond the convergence, but being so close to death...it affected her body still. She still had to heal, so she had retreated to this place, this sanctuary of stillness and isolation. Up here on a highest hillside, overlooking the most beautiful of views that her already beautiful world had to offer, she could usually find her calm centre once more.

It was working, the peace was easing into her, soothing and healing her, but she felt the convergence's touch upon her still. Felt the sharp edge of her own fears hovering around her, could feel the weight upon her consciousness.

Which life were they to live? Which future?

As the convergence had begun to settle its ravaging storm, two possible paths forward had hung in the balance. In those two futures, she had been able to start to comprehend the early points of difference, see what would lead to a future full of nothing but destruction and waste, or one that would lead to unity and hope.

But, even as the pressures of the convergence had eased, the path somehow decided by factors she could never discover, the hovering truth of both possible futures had haunted her.

She now only had to wait to see how the future would unfold.

There was the touch of hope, that maybe the future would be bright. After all, she had stood witness to the marriage in Tjaru.

It had been many years ago that she had first seen John Sheppard's face in her visions, had seen him on Athos and felt his importance - his touch of fate and destiny. It was a touch that Teyla and those closest also shared.

But, the marriage's existence would not decide the ultimate future path.

John existed in both – the dangerous and the hopeful.

There was instead another who would determine the way forward, one who might be the first to fall...

She pulled her thoughts from the repetitive haunting cycle of worries, willing forth the calmness that normally came easily to her. After all, she had had many generations of practice. The chimes echoing softly high up behind her, she drew in the breath of her planet and watched the spirals of red sand across the plains far below.

Sometime later she became aware of something new, a new sound among the rest, standing out as different and growing closer.

As was as natural for her as breathing this sweet air, she opened her extra senses and reached for the sense of the approaching visitor.

Of course it was him.

She closed her eyes to the beauty before her.

She had not intended to convey her fear to him at Teyla's wedding, but he had seen it. And she had seen the moment to come.

It swirled like red sand around her now, the moment ahead playing, casting spells of the words she wished she did not have to say...but she had already said them. This was set in motion, this, at least, was certain.

She wished she had more to tell him, but what was to come was not for her to be party to, it was beyond her involvement.

The engine of his vehicle had stopped some distance away, his approach now respectfully on foot, and soon she heard soft footfalls along the rocky ground of the natural path to her retreat space. No one visited her here, but no one denied an Elite warrior.

He deserved no less either.

He was so important, unassuming of his number as he was, his life was the one holding the balance between a future of dread or of hope.

She kept her eyes closed, focusing only on the sun on her face, the singing of the chimes, and her breath easing in and out of her body.

His footfalls moved closer, his soft approach a wide respectful arc around and towards the seat in which she had sat for hours.

She listened to his boots, his warrior boots, across the rocks and onto the softer grass before her.

The dark memory from the convergence played through her mind as the web of his being brushed her senses. His funeral, surrounded by tears, pain, and the knowledge for her that his death was only to be the first...

"Honoured Ambassador," he greeted gently, perhaps unsure if she was sleeping, being the recovering elderly woman that she was.

The time was upon them.

"Honoured Elite," she responded and finally opened her eyes.

He stood to the side of her view of the valley below, tree tops waving in the breeze behind him, and she could almost believe that they were back on Athos when he had been young. Charin's forest camp had also been his home, back when his youthful life had not yet been touched by a warrior's lessons.

She recalled holding him as a babe, even then knowing of his heroic Elite future. He embodied that remembered future now, his body strong despite his growing years, and his web full of the power of a warrior. Even as a young boy he had held his spine straight and true, held his chin high, but was always respectful. He had not been like the other children, brash and cruel at times to each other, he had always been gentle and truthful. Though sometimes truth could be harsh, as she had first heard Charin teach him over a bowl of tuttleroot soup one crisp Athosian mid meal. She recalled how he had listened intently, even at a young age.

He was here to listen today, to ask and then to listen.

She wished Charin were here, her friend always so capable in using the best of wise words in the most appropriate of places.

"I apologise for interrupting your retreat," he begun, caring as always, understanding and controlled. The Athosians had brought much to the role of an Elite warrior.

"You are always welcome," she replied softly.

He remained stood a short distance away, his posture appearing confident, but clear to both of them surely that he was not at ease.

"This is a beautiful location," he noted, glancing around at the view. She saw the tiredness in his profile, the anxiety, but the determination as well.

"It is," she agreed. "The Elite have been victorious again," she commented, not needing to check any news links to know that the battle to flush out the Wraith from their nest was successful. She had known the victory was to arrive for quite some time.

She also already knew of the large scale celebrations that would take place, that she would be attending herself once she left her retreat. All the Alliance worlds would focus on this shared victory; it would bolster and grow morale...for awhile. It would also serve to curb some corners of internal feuds, but might also spark other events. She was not sure of how they would play out yet, since she was not yet sure of the path they were all upon...

"I need to speak with you," he began, cutting to the point of his visit, his anxiety growing in his throat so much so that she could almost see it attempting to block his voice. "Something has been playing on my mind since Teyla's wedding."

Any doubt that he had not seen her fear was squashed, though she had been foolish to think he might not have noticed. Why else would he have been drawn here to speak of the future?

"I had not intended you to know my fears," she told him honestly. "Yet, this moment was meant to be."

He let out a heavy quick breath and glanced aside, his strong long face once again in profile against the landscape behind him. "Then it is true," he concluded.

She watched him, as she had already done in her visions, but to live the moment was always full of more intensity and reality. She watched his proud Athosian chin lift a fraction higher, just as he had done in the camp when rising above other children's pettiness.

Then he squared his shoulders, the mantle of the Elite settling on him, helping him focus and face this.

He looked back at her.

"What did you see? When will it occur?"

It was time to speak the words.

She drew in a breath, the chimes fading as the breeze seemed to pause with her as she looked up at the man she had held as a babe.

"My recent illness was not as described," she began. "It was what we refer to as a 'convergence' and affected those with my gift greatly."

"What is a convergence?" He asked.

"A point where the future is so dramatically undecided, a point where so many different paths could be..." she felt the rush of the myriad of memories. The cries, the shouts, the tears, the blood, the laughter, the deaths all flowing at once, overwhelming even her training and experienced mind.

"In the undecided moments," she continued, willing aside the recalled painful overwhelming experience, "where all those possible futures exist simultaneously. An eternal and echoing moment when all exist and none at all."

She looked away, up to where the chimes were once again singing delicately. Sunlight reflected off the tarnished metal cylinders and the metal keys tapping against them. She had made the chimes herself, a lifetime ago, using old keys she had gathered from other worlds. Her people lived their entire lives outside, no one had a house and home on her world, so the concept of a lock on a home and its key had always fascinated her. To make the chimes using old unwanted keys, forged for locks that likely no longer existed, had once engaged her profoundly.

"In the convergence, I lived so many futures all at once," she continued her explanation, hearing some of the pain in her voice, but uncaring that Halling might hear it. It was best that he did. "I lived my own futures multiplied beyond the ability to count, all existing at once, and I lived them all. Moments of pain, of great loss, of inspirational insight, and so many other differing events that were too numerous for me to even conceive. It was as if I were torn into thousands of pieces, all disparate, all suffering apart, and all lost."

She lowered her eyes from the chimes and turned her gaze back to Halling.

"I lived them all, all in vivid, terrifying, and magnificent detail. And gradually, as events occurred that I can never know, the possibilities began to narrow down. The futures becoming fewer, stronger, clearer. Until," she paused, "eventually only two futures remained, our path hovering in both and yet neither, until, finally, the convergence stopped. A future is upon us and I returned to myself."

He was watching her with rapt attention, listening intently, just as she had foreseen.

"One path, one future out of two will be ours, but it has not yet been revealed which it will be," she concluded.

The breeze stirred her clothing, and his coat around him.

"And what of me?" He asked into the silence. "My end? My death?"

She held his gaze and it seemed as if the sky grew darker above her, the air chilling as she recalled what could lie ahead. Almost as if the creatures she had seen were around her now, growing closer, creeping over her shoulders.

"There is a dark future ahead, Halling," she whispered. "If it takes hold, all will die."

His frown deepened as he stepped closer to her.

"Not just the Alliance," she continued, the chill sliding into her skin, "not just this galaxy, Honoured Elite. _All_ will die. All _life_ will perish," she whispered darkly, the rushing memories filling the air around her, crushing her hope. "Even the stars themselves will be drained dry by an anger, a destructive thirst, that will seek its deliverance to the end of all life."

Halling's boots brought him to her, one of his knees meeting the ground beside her feet as he knelt beside her, his eyes wide. One warm large hand covered both of her own, adding a rush of warmth to them, but it was not enough to tame back the deep chill she felt. A chill that had filled the galaxy around her, crushing, draining, destroying...

"What enemy?" He asked. "The Wraith?"

She shook her head. "Creeping old stars, climbing out of the darkness, watching, looking to return."

"When?" Halling asked next.

She focused on his eyes, his worried, warrior-focused intense eyes. He no longer focused on his own demise, he only wanted to know what he could do to save them, to save everyone.

She shook her head. "They are already here," she whispered.

Out there, returned, but watchful, holding back, waiting...

"Who are they?"

"I do not know their name," she replied honestly, in all the future moments she had lived, she had not heard their name spoken, almost as if she was denied it. "I know only that they are as ancient as the Wraith, and that they will bring destruction upon us all."

He pursed his lips, his mind working, no doubt forming plans to discover what he could, find out for the Elite...

"If their path of victory is the one ahead," she concluded.

He frowned at her. "Their path?"

"Of the two futures that may now exist," she explained, "one will see them victorious, and all life will end." She grasped at his comforting hand with both of hers. "The Elite will fall first, Halling, like dried leaves scattered to the ground by the first windfall. If the Elite fall, the Alliance will fall." She squeezed his hand, allowing her own fear and desperation out for the first time, letting it all flow out of her and into him. She wished it didn't have to be this way, but if he could be warned...

"If the Alliance falls, Halling," she whispered to him, "the galaxy falls. Atlantis falls."

He frowned hard, his breathing rapid like her own, the fear crawling in to him.

But, it was not the worst yet to tell him.

"And the first leaf to fall," she told him, "is you."

He pulled back a fraction.

She held onto him.

"It all hinges on you," she explained. "A moment is coming, Halling," she told him, her gift flaring to life around her, replaying the moment that might be ahead, drawing all she could learn from what she would be privy to, but it was hardly enough. It would have to do though.

"There will be a moment in which you will make a decision that will lead either to your death or your survival," she explained, holding his gaze. "And then the other leaves will begin to fall or not."

He glanced aside. "I am an Elite," he stated. "I am always prepared to give my life for the Alliance, for all life."

She shook her head before he even completed his honourable statement. "No," she insisted. "You need to _live _for the Alliance. If you die, you will only be the first to fall and the enemy will consume everything. You _must _live, to save them all."

"When will this moment happen?" He asked hurriedly.

"I do not know," she replied weakly, her body starting to feel frail again, weak from the fearful echoes and her own draining fear for him. "But, soon, Halling. It will be very soon."

"Do you know where?"

She shook her head again. "I will not be present for it, so I have not seen it. But, I do know that in the moment of your death, you are alone. Why that moment will define so much, I cannot tell you, or even that if your life is spared it may mean that others might die in your place. I only know that the difference between the destructive and the hopeful future is whether you live or die."

He sat back from her, his eyes wide and his face pale. "Are you saying I should place my own safety now above all others?" It was hardly the Elite way, and his tone made clear his distaste for it. "I should remove myself from duty," he answered his own question as he sat back further from her onto his heels.

"No," she interrupted his plan. "The moment _will_ happen; it is only the outcome of it that will determine the way forward."

"How can it be that way, Sitayi?" He asked, objected, the first touches of anger in his voice. Good, he needed the power of that anger.

"I do not know," she answered him honestly, aware that she was still holding tightly onto one of his hands. "But, it will happen. Regardless of what you may think to do to avoid it, the moment _will_ arrive. It is a vital turning point in the future, and nothing we do will change its arrival. Trust me on this."

"Then how can I determine what the outcome will be?" He asked. "There has to be some difference between the path to destruction and the path to a better future. What happens that determines my living or dying?"

She shook her head tiredly, painfully not having those answers for him. It asserted so dramatically the pain of her gift, the uselessness of it in the current moment. Her actions might be assisting the future outcome, but she had no way to know. She only knew that the moment would come. She had tried too many times in her youth to alter the horrors she had seen, to try to rewrite the future, but it had never worked. This moment was ahead of Halling, but the outcome of it, how that moment would play out for him was still unclear. Yet, the outcome was horrifically simple – life or death.

He sighed with obvious frustration. "What am I to do?" He asked. "How am I to know what to do if the moment could happen at any time, anywhere?"

She tightened her weakened hold on his hand again.

"I am so sorry, Honoured Halling of Athos," she offered. "All I can tell you is what I have seen. I wish I could see more for you, but I can only hope for you."

He pursed his lips together, his pale face seeming to show every minute of his age now. How could so many years have passed since she had held him as a babe? How cruel life could be for her to have to speak of this horror to him now. The little babe in her arms...if she had known then of this fate, would she have tried to manipulate again? Tried her hardest to stop him from becoming an Elite?

Yet, pulling on one tiny thread could pull everything apart, and besides, he had always been destined to be important, to be vital. She imagined that in any lifetime and in any future he would be important. He was so strong of heart, even now in the face of such fearful and frustrating news, he did not lose his temper, did not rage against the sky around him. Instead, he was thinking, struggling to find a way to guarantee life for all.

It was difficult for an Elite she imagined, for more often it was their own life given that could save the many. Now she was telling him that his life alone must continue in order to save billions.

He must not fall.

Yet how to save him...she knew it was not in her hands.

Was it even in his?

Was the way set out of any control now, a future dark and terrifying, swallowing cold night to consume everything?

Her mind turned to another Athosian who she held as a babe, a tiny girl who would had become a powerful warrior and who would help draw a unity between two galaxies. And her new husband, a man from stars that Sitayi had never seen, whose future was also hinged upon the life of the man before her.

Upon whom all life hinged.

A vital and strong warrior - a son of Athos.

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TBC


	59. Monday

**Chapter**: 59/60

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**Chapter 59 – Monday**

The ocean stretched out before him, filling everything beyond the city. Only sky and water seemed to exist from here.

The water surrounding the city always rippled with the constant movement of the planet's tides, but today those currents were soft and strangely gentle, so much so that the ocean was almost still.

A soft mist hung over the gentle surface and the clouds above were rusty white as the sun's dying light cut through them. It felt especially poignant.

He drew in a deep breath of the air, tasting the alien salt and wide fresh open spaces from beyond the touch of Atlantis.

It was a gorgeous view and one that he loved, but today...today it didn't feel right. It felt calming, but it wasn't enough.

The beauty seemed to engender a disturbing emptiness today.

The breeze, soft against his cooling skin, whispered with pain.

He frowned at the thought. No one wanted to focus on pain, but it was still the tendency for everyone; to focus on the things that hurt and the hollow emptiness of loss.

Though today, the whispered breeze seemed more specific, like a calling constant reminder of pain's existence.

The thought seemed strange to him, but a sense of movement behind his shoulder pulled his attention away from thinking about it. He pulled his eyes from the flat ocean to see who it could be stepping up to his side in this place.

He looked round...

Only no one was there.

Just the wind off the ocean. Circling around him, whispering pain again.

Carson frowned at the empty space around him, aware of strange sounds shifting in the breeze, barely on the edge of his hearing.

Was someone calling him?

A half-remembered scream of pain seemed to echo, and with it a flash of bright burning heat.

But, it was just on the wind, carried from far away. Long ago.

Yet, as he turned and looked towards the centre of the great Ancient City, that sense of worrying pain only grew stronger.

The more he focused on it, the more a fearful sense of panic seemed to be growing, and, with it, a point of disturbing sharpness.

Another sound, too many now, encircling him in his former quiet contemplation.

He wanted to stay as he was - peaceful and thoughtful out in his favourite of thinking spots in the city.

But those sounds on the wind, they were growing, pulling on him somehow, drawing him to focus more intently on the tall spires of the city before him.

And in his body, deep and hot, the pain became avoidably solid.

In a flash of sudden reality, the dream deteriorated from his consciousness and the loud penetrating sound of constant bleeping asserted itself.

The whispering was still here, but as low voices now...concerned, worried words that he couldn't quite make out.

They needed him then, he should be in the Infirmary. Except...the bleeping, growing in frequency and volume, made him suspect he might already be in the Infirmary.

He must have fallen asleep at a desk again. He needed to wake up, only, it seemed hard to do.

Strangely, he felt rather like he was out in that overly still ocean around the City, but that the numbing strange still water currents were trying to engulf him, swallow him down in a burning screaming rush!

"Carson?" The voice was sudden, loud and from nowhere specific, but he latched onto the sound desperately, forcing his eyes to open.

Except he couldn't-

"Carson?" The distant female soft voice called again. "Can you hear me?"

He tried to answer that he could, tried to understand where he was, and what the murky worrying sense of distant pain could mean.

"He squeezed my hand!" Another voice announced, closer, more familiar.

Rodney.

Faint awareness of his own hand arrived, but yet again it was strangely distant and suppressed. But, he could feel something, a warmth, a tight secure hold.

"Carson?" Rodney's voice arrived, worried, afraid.

Carson tried to reply, but nothing happened, so he just focused on his hand and finally felt some movement.

"He did it again," Rodney's voice exclaimed, the words clearer now and excited.

Another touch accompanied Rodney's, a more professional touch. "Carson, its Dr Keller. I need you to squeeze my hand, Carson. Can you do that for me?"

Another effort and he felt movement again.

"Good, Carson. We're glad to have you back," Dr Keller's voice replied warmly. She was a good Doctor, he recalled. Trustworthy, kind, thorough. Whoever she was looking after was in good hands. He should really be helping her though.

"I need you to rest as best you can, Carson," she was saying now. "Everyone is here with you, just rest."

There was a sense of other voices somewhere, but what focus Carson had seemed to gain was drifting away again. He really should get more sleep, she was right, especially if he was falling asleep in the Infirmary again.

Returning to the depth of sleep was hardly difficult; it was like simply turning around and looking back out across the ocean again, the peacefulness returning.

He smiled into the breeze once more.

However, on the breeze, he could now hear Rodney's voice, indistinct, but present.

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John squeezed Rodney's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. "He'll be okay, Buddy," he reassured Rodney again.

It hadn't been such a clear promise before, but now Carson had responded, even a little bit, proved that he was up out of his coma. There was hope now.

"Carson?" Rodney called again down towards Carson's almost entirely bandaged face.

"He's asleep," Dr Keller replied though, her eyes moving over the banks of medical monitors set up around the head of Carson's bed. John glanced over them himself, not understanding what it all meant, but knew enough to recognise blood pressure and what looked like brain patterns or something. Which all meant that Carson was alive and no longer in his coma.

"But, he's woken up, so that's good," Ford put in hurriedly from the other side of the medical bed from John.

They had headed straight here from the Gate Room. Colonels Carter and Sumner having met them the second he and Ford had stepped through the Gate. John's own report had been given hurriedly to Colonel Carter as they had headed down the city's corridors on the way here.

Fortunately, Atlantis was mostly intact, the damage done by two 'tumour' bombs hadn't structurally compromised the central tower, but there was plenty of repair work.

And funerals to plan.

They'd lost more people than John had hoped, but less than he'd horribly imagined about all through the shuttle trip down from the Sythus to the Alliance held Portal. Fortunately, he and Ford hadn't had to wait long before being able to Gate through to Athos. Once there, they'd been able to turn around straight away and dial back to Atlantis. It had been minutes really, but in that time John had imagined the very worst.

Except he hadn't been prepared to hear the news that Carson was at death's door.

But, for now at least, it looked like Carson had stepped back from that point. Hopefully.

But, looking at him...

John had seen firsthand what explosives could do to someone. He'd helped people in the battlefield who had the worst of injuries, so that Carson had all of his limbs still attached was actually a major plus.

But, he'd hit his head bad, had practically shattered his right arm, and the burns...

John winced as he tried not to imagine what Carson's skin looked like under the wrappings. He knew that burns alone could kill, and not just physically.

"...we'll keep a close eye on him," Dr Keller was saying to Rodney, her voice professional, but very caring. "I'll be just over there if you need me."

Rodney vaguely nodded, but his whole being was focused down on Carson.

Dr Keller moved away, so John squeezed Rodney's hunched shoulder one more time, and moved away.

He moved to the Doc's side as she headed away from the end of Carson's bed.

"Is he gonna be okay, Doc?" John asked her. He knew it wasn't the easiest question for a Doctor to answer, but now Carson had woken up...

Ford had joined them as Dr Keller looked back at Rodney's anxious vigil and then pulled her eyes back to John. "That he's woken up is a very good sign, but it's going to take time. We'll keep assessing him. The readings we have," she added, glancing back towards the monitors set around Carson's bed, "suggest that the head injury hasn't done any obvious permanent damage, but the truth is that we can't really assess the extent of any damage until he is more conscious."

"But, he'll get more conscious, right?" Ford asked anxiously.

She smiled that strained smile that Doctors used when they were trying to be reassuring, but their expression told you that they were just being nice. "Hopefully," was all she said. She and Carson were colleagues here, so the hollow look in her eyes as she once again looked at the bed made John feel slightly uncomfortable. If she was worried...

"But he's going to make it, right?" Ford pushed at the fundamental basics.

"It's looking very good," Keller replied, more confident this time.

Except, John had enough experience to know that surviving death could be just the start of troubles with severe injuries.

They had no idea how all this would affect Carson.

"The operation on his arm went very well," Keller repeated what she had already told them earlier, "hopefully he'll gain full use of it again. We'll just have to take each day as it comes. And with skin grafts..." She trailed off, her eyes back on Carson. "We just have to take one day at a time," she repeated.

John looked back at Carson himself, worrying on the inside of his lip.

"I've got to go check on Lieutenant Martin," Keller excused herself, heading away over to where the other casualty of the same bomb lay. He and Carson had been the only ones who had made it out of the OR alive. Lt Martin, who had been working as backup in the ordinance disposal team, had been down the hallway from where the bomb had detonated.

Carson had apparently defied orders and protocol and had worked tirelessly to save a man's life, but in the end it hadn't been enough. Carson's nurse, the patient, and the city's top ordinance disposal man had all been killed. That Carson had survived, as hurt as he was, had probably only been due to the fact that the others had been between him and the bomb. Carter had said that they had found Carson across the room, clearly thrown there by the explosive force, and that he'd fallen down behind another OR bed. It had probably been what had saved him from burning up completely.

It looked like Carson had stepped back from death's door, but they had to wait and see what his head injury might have done to him. John had seen soldiers lose their memories of their families and half their life after a head injury, or change their personality so dramatically that they couldn't get on with their former friends and family any more.

And even if Carson survived that kind of damage, what about the burns? Such physical scarring could...

John thought of Oneakka's facial scars. Hadn't Teyla said something about him not having taken options of reducing the scar? Maybe the Alliance had rehab medicine that they could tap...after all Atlantis was a proper ally now. He'd mention it to Carter, see if Torren could make enquiries. Though presumably Torren would already have offered any help he could offer. Maybe it was the Elite who had that kind of medicine.

Rodney looked up and round, drawing John's attention.

"I think he squeezed my hand again," Rodney reported, his eyes red and slightly swollen, but dry. Apparently he'd been by Carson's bedside since the emergency crews had pulled him out of the burning wreckage of the OR.

"That's great," John offered to Rodney as positively as he could as he headed back to Carson's bedside himself. "He'll pull through."

"He's a fighter," Ford put in, looking like he felt as useless as John felt.

Rodney nodded, his head lowering again, all his attention focused on Carson's unwrapped still hand.

"I should have just gone fishing with him," Rodney whispered, his voice full of anguish.

John stepped up closer to him again, wishing he knew exactly what to say. "You couldn't have known, Rodney," he insisted. "You can't blame yourself."

"But, if I'd just gone with him, like I'd said I would..." Tears were filling Rodney's eyes again.

"You can't think like that. Any decision could lead to anything here," John tried to remind him gently. "It's not your fault," he insisted again.

Rodney didn't answer.

"You didn't leave that Ancient device in a lab for anyone to touch," John pointed out, a burst of anger raging at the Ancients for leaving something like that just lying around! "Even if you had gone with Carson, you both might have been recalled to the city anyway," John tried to reason. "It might not have mattered."

Of course, protocol would probably have meant that Rodney and Carson wouldn't have been allowed to fly their Jumper back here during a lockdown situation. But, if they had needed their Chief Surgeon, they might have done it.

John had to wonder what might have happened if he had been here too? Would he have gone fishing with Carson, or would he have stuck with his original plan to play golf and chill for the day? Could he have done something different if he'd been here?

Instead, he'd been in the middle of a massive battle against the Wraith. If he hadn't been part of that, would it have changed anything there? Had he been a significant enough part of the mission to Giant that his absence might have resulted in a different outcome?

They were circular arguments that had no answer to them, and, right now, such thinking was not helping Rodney.

"I should have catalogued those labs myself," Rodney argued next.

"Then you'd be either dead from the first bomb or have ended up on the OR table yourself," John replied instantly. "And I can promise you, that out of everyone in this city, Carson would have risked his life for yours first."

Rodney's sad eyes lifted with a touch of pained hope. "He's the closest thing to a best friend I've ever had."

"He _still_ is, Rodney," John insisted, his gaze moving to Carson's bandaged face. Carson's right cheek and his mouth were all that were uncovered, but John could see the redness peeking out from under the bandages. "He'll be okay."

It was a weak promise, one that John really couldn't back up with any real evidence. He was no Doctor and had more experience in losing people than in helping save them, but he meant what he said.

It might be a weak hope, but right now that was all he had.

Hope that Carson would be okay, hope that his impulsive decision to go for the Political Marriage wasn't going to backfire on Earth and Atlantis, that Colonel Carter wasn't going to lose her job because of it, that the Wraith weren't going to appear out of nowhere and lay siege to the city again, and that, hopefully, things would be okay with Teyla.

Right now she was out there, right on the edge of Wraith held territory, probably already right back in a fight with them. Risking her life.

Would he one day be the one sat by her bedside, holding her hand and hoping she would survive horrible injuries? Or would he have to go straight to standing beside her grave?

He had no idea what the future would bring – he could only hope that things would get a little easier for everyone. That Teyla would be safe, that they'll repair their relationship – in whatever form that might be – and that Atlantis and the Alliance could deal with the Wraith for good. That everyone he knew would survive it all, and that they would make a difference.

But, he had no way to be sure about any of it.

All he could do right now was stay by Carson's side, be here for Rodney too.

And hope that Teyla was okay out there, that she would stay safe, and that he'd see her very soon.

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TBC


	60. Epilogue

**Chapter****:** 60/60

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**Chapter 60 – Epilogue**

The constant damp irritating dripping was a worthy backdrop to the situation. The drops were regular enough, but spaced just far apart enough that you almost thought it had stopped before another drop fell.

The chamber, hewn from rock and the water table, was dank and smelt offensive.

But, it was empty and his view of the bare wall reflected his mood.

Their supplies had been cut off. The whispers implied the supplies were permanently at an end and several informants had disappeared. The situation with Athos and Sheppard had been lost - an opportunity surrendered for nothing in return. He could have had his revenge.

And now there was this fresh report...

Kolya glanced from the bare wall to the paper, the handwritten note slipped to one of his people in a hurried unexpected moment.

It said he was being betrayed.

By those he trusted back on the Genii homeworld as well. Those he had thought his strongest allies – at least until he had finished with them and they were no longer of use to him.

The plans were abruptly falling apart.

Even if he were to begin his campaign now without the support that Toshka and his 'allies' could bring, it was likely that any coup would be unsuccessful if he wasn't able to trust those he had placed in power to help him in the first place.

No one but his best were to be trusted, those kept close that he would watch over.

But Ladon and Tyrus – his best. He had thought them his most loyal, but if the report was to be believed, they were plotting his removal. Such plotting was to be expected among Genii, but not working with Atlantis.

Working with Sheppard's people to expose him and-

The chamber's door opened abruptly. "Commander?"

"What is it?" Kolya asked.

"I have another report." Boots marched towards the back of his chair, but kept a respectful distance. "From the far side of Alliance territory."

Kolya waited for more than that useless piece of information.

"About the missing ores from the salvaging group. Our man has looked into the situation. It appears that half of the salvagers' ships have disappeared and the rest are running scared."

Kolya frowned at that.

"Even Uksel's ship has disappeared," the voice continued.

Kolya's turned his chair round. Uksel was one of the most seasoned salvagers there were. Kolya's supplies came from one of the man's group who sent them second rate, but still good, ore. It was a direct, unofficial supply for Kolya's forces that they used to manufacture weapons and to trade the ore outside of the Alliance.

"Our man also noted that yesterday we lost contact with our informer on the listening moon on that edge of the Alliance border. He says that nothing remains of the small settlement."

"Wraith?" Kolya asked.

"He doesn't believe so, in fact he says the readings were confusing and didn't match anything in his experience."

Kolya pondered the news. "A new player perhaps?" Had someone taken over the salvagers' usual territory to use it for themselves.

"Could the Travellers be trying to claim back some space territory?"

Kolya shook his head dismissing the foolish idea. The Travellers had no interest in attacking salvagers, besides Uksel had enough experience with the Wraith that the Travellers wouldn't be enough to scare him off. Or kill him off.

"Without the ore supplies, we need to look elsewhere."

Kolya nodded, but the options were growing fewer. With the Elite, now Atlantis, and other interested parties ever watchful for him and his people, Kolya had to tread carefully.

Time was running out, especially with Toshka's computer database now in Alliance hands. Kolya had no idea how much about him and his work Toskha had stupidly recorded. Even the tiniest detail could help destroy all his work.

What he needed was something that would tip the balance and give him a vital advantage that he could use to go to the Genii world now and shove Cowen from his seat of power. Kolya could deal with Ladon and Tyrus, but he needed something else...

He stood up from his chair, adjusting his uniform so that it sat true. "Advancements with the virus?"

"None still. The Wraith code is taking far longer to understand, as is the retrovirus. Chief says it could be sometime still. He still says that a genetic resequencer would speed up matters."

Kolya adjusted his collar and headed for the open door. "He can have access to the very best in Alliance technology soon enough, once I am in power. Which will have to be sooner than expected now."

He marched down the dank corridor and round a bend until he could see into the darkened archway that led to the cages.

He watched as the tall, dark, silent Wraith inside noticed his attention and held still in the centre of the cell.

"It is time that we took what we need," Kolya decided. "If we can't get the technology we need from the Alliance, we shall just have to go to another source to get it. A source of technology that rivals the Alliance."

He smiled fainted with delight.

He would finally have his revenge on Sheppard too. He would be the instrument of Kolya's plan, two enemies dealt with in one final spectacular strike.

"Tell our people to start reporting all Atlantis arrivals on all planets. I want all our informants now watching out for them, for him. Do you have the photos ready?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Spread them out carefully. Have a unit ever ready at a moment's notice to move once he has been spotted on a planet. We will need to bide our time until the right moment, but be ready to move quickly."

"Yes, Commander."

Then he would use Sheppard to get what he needed, and make sure that the man paid for not only the bullet hole in his chest, his fall from power, but also for Iketani as well.

He would have his just revenge on Major Sheppard very soon...

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THE END.

(I had better get writing that sequel...)


End file.
